


A Dice Roll Away...

by drednort



Category: Dragon Warriors/Lands of Legend
Genre: Children's Literature, Children's Stories, Fantasy, Gen, Swords & Sorcery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-03-02 07:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2804345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drednort/pseuds/drednort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fantasy novel, primarily aimed at children, set in the world of the Dragon Warriors RPG, published by Serpent King Games.</p>
<p>A young boy growing up on the streets of a major city begins to discover his past and his future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fiction includes material based on the Dragon Warriors setting, as created by and copyright (c) Dave Morris and Oliver Johnson, and used according to the terms of the Serpent King Games Fan Policy. We are not permitted to charge you to use or access this content. This website is not published, endorsed, or officially approved by Serpent King Games. For more information about Dragon Warriors products and Serpent King Games, please visit www.serpentking.com

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A street urchin, living by his wits and the contents of other people's purses, realises that somebody is cheating at dice. Pointing this out leads to the beginnings of a better future.

The dice were cast. Though the tavern was as crowded, bordering on overcrowded and as noisy as it ever got, Leo heard the clatter as they bounced across the table very clearly. Being under the table probably helped but he would have thought that it was thick enough to stop the noise from getting through so clearly. Maybe there was something about the table that... what was the word he had heard again... magnified. Maybe there was something about the table that made the sound of the dice louder. And maybe it was loudest where he was now. In the darkest spot. Right under the middle of the table.

He lifted the bowl to his mouth and he tipped the last remnants of the watery scumgullion down his throat. It was the first hot meal he'd had in... well, that didn't bear thinking about. It might be a long time before he got another. Lifting a purse that contained golden crowns meant Perfidy had actually let him keep some of the silver for himself. And silver meant stew at the Three Shovels. That had been his... policy... for as long as he had remembered. Everybody said that the scumgullion at the Three Shovels was the best in Ongus. Often remarking that even the best scumgullion was still scumgullion, but Leo liked the taste of it. The richness of the chewy meat, and the bitterness of the turnips. If he ever had gold he could call his own he would not eat scumgullion, but with silver, scumgullion was what he would choose to eat.

He ran his finger around the inside of the bowl and licked it until all he could taste was finger. And then he did it again. And again. There was nothing left. But as long as he stayed under the table, he could probably stay inside in the warm until chucking out time. He wouldn't be easily noticed there. The shadows hid him well enough. It also meant less bumping about by bigger people and almost everybody was bigger than Leo was. Bumping was good outside in the streets, where it made it easier for you to get away with somebody's purse. But doing that inside the Three Shovels would be a big mistake. He might have only been welcome in there when he had silver to spend, but at least he was welcome then. Besides that – he would not have been at all surprised if the people who owned and worked in the tavern knew how old he was, and that meant he had to be very careful not to be caught stealing here. It was a pity – there was a purse that looked to be made of something like red velvet, hanging from the belt of somebody at the table, and a purse made of such a thing suggested wealth inside. So did the ornate dagger at his side. No. Best not to be tempted. Think of something else.

The dice were still clattering, and he sat up, reaching up to feel the bottom of the table. Was it unusually thin in the middle? Why did the noise seem so loud? It was almost like... occasionally, only occasionally, but more often now than it used to happen, when he found himself looking at purses hanging from peoples belts, occasionally he found himself seeing the purse much more clearly than he had before – as other things he could see seemed to fade into the background. When that happened – as it had happened today with the purse of gold and silver – he knew, he somehow knew – that this time he would get that purse, no questions, no risk. Now the dice were clattering far louder than they should, and the other noises of the tavern seemed to be fading away. Was he supposed to steal the dice – well, not supposed to, obviously nobody was supposed to steal, though what choice did you have sometimes... He looked around and saw with clarity a hand dart under the table to the red velvet purse – by the angle the owner's own hand, and he saw very clearly as the hand reached into a tiny pocket on the purse and drew out a dice, placing a dice from within the purse in its place. It was a smooth and... dextrous... motion. The hand withdrew back above the table.

Leo's eyes shot around looking at the legs of the other men at the table, and the long skirt of a woman too. He knew who they belonged to – some of them were honest people, local people, that he saw everyday. The type of people who could not afford to be cheated out of money by a man who wore a jeweled dagger and a red velvet purse. He pushed himself out through the largest gap he could see, and grabbed the edge of the table with his right hand to pull himself up. He had the wooden bowl in his left hand, and as the dice clattered across the table, he slammed it down to cover them.

“That man is cheating.” He announced to a suddenly nearly silent common room that seemed to be full of people staring at him.

The man tried to stand and the man next to him put a hand on his shoulder. “Stay down, Master, if you don't mind.” This was Borgen, a local carpenter, and a strong and powerful man. The well dressed man with the velvet purse was much smaller, but as he looked at Leo, Leo realised that he seemed much more dangerous than Borgen. Borgen spoke. “Leo, you'd better be very sure. I've got nine florins in that pile on the table and this gentleman needed to roll a double six to beat me, and you've just wrecked that bet. And calling a man a cheat is one of the worst insults there is besides.”

The man with the velvet purse spoke. He had an accent – Algandarve – but also a very smooth voice. “Leo...” he said the name in a tone dripping with malice. “...is quite correct. Little point in me denying it. My dice are trapped under that bowl he has in his left hand.” People started murmuring and standing up at other tables. Behind the bar, the bartender reached for a length of wood. The Algand looked around. “I suggest you take my purse and give it to the barman and it pays for drinks for everybody in this establishment until the money is gone. And I walk out of here.”

Borgen let him stand, and took his purse and opened it to look inside. “Aye. I think we can agree to that. But you'd better not come back here, Master Cheat. And I don't just mean this tavern. I wouldn't come back to the southern sides.”

The man walked to the door. “I will consider your advice, Master Carpenter. But if I come back, I will certainly make sure young Leo isn't here.” He walked out.

Borgen threw the purse over to the barman. “Keep serving till that's all spent. And give young Leo here another bowl of your best scumgullion. And one more each evening for the rest of the week.” He looked at Leo. “You really do need feeding up, lad. A boy your age shouldn't be so small.”

Leo knew he'd been right as usual. People here did know how old he was. Maybe he should ask them for the information.

He lifted the bowl, and looked at the dice. They were facing up – two sixes. He looked at them carefully. They seemed to be entirely normal dice... if there was some trick to them, he had no idea what it was. Why had the foreigner given up so easily? Either he had not been cheating, or if he had been, he probably could have bluffed it out unless somebody else could see something that Leo couldn't. A bowl of scumgullion was placed on the table next to him, and he took it back under the table. He probably did not need to hide at this point to stay in the tavern, at least until the money ran out, but he felt more comfortable there.

It was nearly dawn and the dawn at this time of year came late, when he found himself, bone tired and a little dizzy, but also stuffed with porridge paid for by somebody else, climbing down the stairs into the riverside hovel that he supposed he had to call his home, because it was the place he normally slept. The money from the cheat's purse had outlasted most of the drinkers but Arkamus, the landlord of the Three Shovels had insisted on closing for at least a couple of hours and so everybody had been dispersed. As he pushed his way past the sacking that passed for a door, he could see Perfidy fussing over a pile of sticks and trying to coax a small fire. She looked up at him and opened her mouth to tell him what she thought of him. He raised a finger to stop her, then reached inside his tunic and pulled out the two loaves of day old bread that they had let him take away from the kitchen of the Three Shovels. Her mouth stayed open as she stared at it.

“Did you have to put it inside your tunic?” she finally said. “When was the last time you had a wash?”

“Yes, I did. Or it would have been taken off me. And I went in the river only about a week ago. Upriver too.”

“Thank God for small mercies, then. Wake up the others.”

He went over to where everybody else was sleeping in a pile in the corner, and began shaking them awake. There were four of them. All like him. All young enough to be reasonably safe from the consequences of picking pockets for a living. All old enough to be good at it. Perfidy was the closest thing they had to a... big sister. She thought she was fifteen, but it was hard to be sure, just as Leo thought he was probably ten. Dolly inkerpacks. King's law didn't let them hang you, nor officially do anything else to you until were seven, and so you stayed under seven as long as possible if you had to live they way they lived. They didn't hang many seven year olds either, but being sent to the work gangs, or a proper flogging was bad enough – and even if they weren't likely to hang you, why risk it? Don't turn seven until you bloody well had to. Perfidy had made it until she thought she was twelve, partly by pretending to be a boy for a couple of years – people expected boys to be bigger, even when they weren't. And she said there were other good reasons not to be a girl too, but she wouldn't say what they were. Now there was no way that anybody would ever believe she wasn't seven – or twelve for that matter - but she'd been smart and worked out another way of getting by. She took care of her little canting crew, making sure they ate as well as they could on what they could bring in. She took the lion's share and kept it safe for the times when they couldn't get enough. She also tended them when they were sick as well as she could – and in the winter that could happen quite a bit. In the three years that Leo had been with her, she'd only lost one of the people she looked after to sickness. Most real mothers did not do so well. Not on the southern sides especially.

Everybody crowded around the tiny fire, as Perfidy carefully broke up the bread into six as equal chunks as possible. It was her ritual with shared food, and Leo did not think it as fair as she did. She was bigger than them, she needed more, but he knew she'd take the smallest share she could. She was getting thinner. He pulled out the dice.

“This is my bread. I brought it home. So I decide who gets which share.”

Perfidy looked at him. “Do you think you're in charge?”

“I am today.”

She shook her head slightly. “I'm too hungry to argue. Just don't you go getting too big for your boots. If you had boots. Or your breeches. If you had breeches.”

“You're lucky I don't. I could have stuck the bread down them.” Leo looked around and pointed to each in turn. “You're one.... two... three... four... five... six.” He took the dice in his hand. “When I roll the dice, and your number comes up, you take the piece of bread you want. Everybody gets one piece. If I roll a number twice, I'll reroll. Got it?”

He looked at them. Jarrow had been sick and coughing. He was number two and Leo hoped he could roll a two first – the bread wasn't even despite Perfidy's efforts. Maybe he should have nicked a knife... that jewelled dagger would have been nice. He rolled the dice. It came up two, and Jarrow reached for the largest piece. Good. Perfidy had got five. It would be good if five came up next, because she really was looking thin. He rolled. It was a five. Perfidy reached forward... and took the smallest piece. He rolled again. Another five. He rolled again. Another five. He rolled again. Another five.

“Somebody really wants you to have another piece, Perfidy,” he said, knowing that there was no way that would happen.

She glared at him. “Keep rolling.”

Well – Nodar who had been given number three, was probably the next most needy. And Leo rolled a three. Leo paused... this was odd... he looked at the dice carefully. “Come on, roll,” said Baltar, who had been counted as number one, demanded in a sharp whine, and in annoyance, Leo thought 'four', very deliberately, and the dice came up four, so the next piece went to Roalf. And then he rolled a one, so that Baltar took the second last piece.

The piece that was left was quite small. And it was his. He picked it up, and quickly slipped it under his shirt, as the others wolfed down their food.

Perfidy stood up. “Right – Nodar, you need to go down Pinter's Wharf. Baltar, round behind the Slaughteryards. Jarrow, you stay close to home – keep to the docksides. Roalf, I need you down the fruit market – and if you can't get money, bring home some apples or something else. Bring 'em home anyway. Leo, you take Cutter's lane. And you see any good sticks, any of you, bring them home. We'd need wood. It's getting colder.”

Leo waited till the others had left, then pulled the chunk of bread from out of his tunic. “Perfidy.”

She turned and he threw it to her. She barely caught it – which shocked him. She rarely missed a beat. She stared at it.

“Eat it.”

She stared at him, and began to walk towards him. “Leo, you'll eat this bread unless you want the hiding of your life. We don't waste food. And we don't take more than our share.”

He backed away. “I had two bowls of scumgullion last night, Perfidy, and a full bowl of porridge this morning. I waited till the others were gone, because I won't argue with you in front of them. But you've got to eat that bread. Give me a hiding if it makes you feel better. But if something happens to you... you've got to eat that bread.”

He pushed past her. “Please. Eat the bread.”

She called after him, but he did not look back. Perfidy would eat the bread now. She would not let it go to waist and he had made a good argument once she had time think about it. She had to keep herself healthy, so she could keep the rest of them healthy.

It was a cool day. Autumn seem to have arrived over the previous week. He was not looking forward to the winter. Last winter he had managed to buy – he'd actually gone up northern sides to the good markets – a pair of stout woolen hose and a tunic with long sleeves, but by the end of winter he'd grown enough that he could barely get them on and he knew that Perfidy had them packed away for Jarrow, because he'd grown even more since then. Could he still pass for under seven? That was a thought he'd been pondering for a few weeks now. He'd asked Perfidy her opinion and she'd looked him over really closely and said that she thought he could, especially with his clothes off and as long as he didn't talk, but he had his doubts. A while ago – about the start of last Autumn so it must have been a year ago now – he'd actually been arrested and dragged up to Oldfort, the city prison and thrown into the cells. He'd managed to convince the Gaoler he was only six or convince him enough that he'd let him go at least, but it had been a near run thing. It wasn't the only time he'd ever been caught, but on the other occasions the person who'd caught him had taken what he'd stolen and given him a hiding. Everybody knew a thief could hang and most people seemed to understand that the thieving urchins of Ongus were just doing what they had to do. Once you were old enough to get honest work, you were expected to do that, but until then, if you didn't have parents, you didn't have much choice. He was lucky enough to have Perfidy. He knew he must have had a mother ad Perfidy said he must have had a father too, but he could not remember either of them. Not at all.

He'd been told to go to Cutter's Lane for the day, and that was a good choice – it marked a boundary road between two parishes and was lined with stalls that sold a range of goods and so he headed in that direction. He had to walk back past the Three Shovels to get there and that brought dice back into the front of his head – not that they had gone far away. He'd rolled the number he'd been thinking about every single time. That was... he did not know a word that mean almost impossible because it probably wasn't actually impossible. But it seemed a lot more unlikely than unlikely.

He reached inside into one of the pouches he'd sewn inside his tunic and drew out the two dice. He ducked into the alley by the side of the tavern and rolled one of them on top of a barrel thinking 'Three'. It came up 'Five'. He rolled it again thinking 'Four'. It came up 'Two'. When he thought 'One' it did come up 'One' but then it came up 'One' again the next time when he was thinking 'Six'. He picked up the other dice and thought 'Three' and it came up 'Three'. He thought 'Five' and it came up 'Five'. He thought 'Six' and it came up 'Six.' It worked with this dice but not the other. He picked it up and stared at it and then carefully compared it to the other. They both seemed more or less identical. He rolled the dice that did what he wanted – the thought of 'four' became a roll of 'four', and then he picked up the cube again, considered, and as he rolled it he thought 'Seven!'

His head exploded with pain as if somebody had hit him with a hammer. It actually drove him to his knees, and he knelt there retching in the alley, fighting to keep whatever was inside him was inside him. It took a minute for the pain and nausea to pass. He stood up and picked up the dice.

There were seven dots on one of its sides. He checked the other sides. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven... Seven sides. But it was still cube shaped. All right. Impossible was the right word for this. But it had happened.

This was a magic dice. It really was a magic dice. And his blood ran cold at that thought. Magic was... dangerous. Very dangerous. People feared it. A powerful Sorcerer was safe enough of that fear, but a boy with magic in his hands... no wonder the man last night had been willing to concede so readily that he was a cheat. If people had known he was using magic to win...

Leo came very close to throwing the dice down a drain – given them to the ancient sewers under the city left behind by the Empire. But... yes, they were dangerous. But they also had to be valuable. Possibly very valuable. If he could work out what to do with them.

For now, he decided that he had to attend to more urgent matters. Perfidy was going to be annoyed at him for standing up to her, and the best way to deal with that was to bring home some coin. He headed up to Cutter's Lane, and by the middle of the day, he had lifted two purses from comfortable looking people. He had over 20 florins, and nearly twice as many pennies. No gold today, but gold was rare in the areas they worked in. Cutter's Lane was a prosperous shopping area by the standards of the southern sides, but that certainly didn't make the people who shopped there rich. Just people who wouldn't be put at risk of starvation or serious deprivation by losing a purse. That mattered to Leo – or at least he pretended it did. When he was honest, he would admit that he'd steal from a poor person if he had to, and he didn't know them well, but he tried to avoid getting into that situation.

The sun had come out during the morning and it was warmer now. He had a more than decent amount of money for the day, and he had a feeling – just a feeling – that made him a little uncomfortable about staying in the market of Cutter's Lane. He knew to trust his instincts. Maybe somebody was watching him – you never looked around to check. And the dice were still worrying him. He decided to head to the northern sides. There were things he could do there.


	2. Chapter 2

As you went north, you also went up – the city sloped down from north to south. The rich in the north could literally look down on the poorer people in the south. The river water was cleaner – much cleaner before it passed by the tanners yards and the outflow of the main sewer, the smells were less. Everything was better there.

Perfidy had a rule. None of her crew ever stole in the northern sides. The pickings might be good and everybody there could afford it, but they were also much more likely to hand you over to the city guard, rather than deal with you themselves, and the city magistrates were more likely to treat a person harshly to keep the wealthy happy. Leo had broken the rule once more than a year ago – and come away with a purse of gold, his best ever haul. And he'd got his best ever hiding from Perfidy who made it worse by throwing the purse and the gold into the river. She'd made it very clear that there was nothing to be gained in her opinion by stealing on the northern sides, and she wouldn't let her crew put themselves in danger by such dangerous stupidity. So Leo only did it occasionally, and didn't tell her when he had. You could always come up with some reason why you'd found a person with an unusually full purse. But mostly, when he went north, he wasn't going north for crime. Although you were made to feel a criminal just by being on the northern sides in a ragged tunic and nothing else. Nobody actually stopped you. People of the city were free men and women, and nobody had the right to stop you walking the streets of Ongus. If somebody tried, the guards would actually come down on your side. But people looked at you, and wondered why you were there.

Leo had three reasons. The first was to go to a place he knew about that nobody else had ever found. Or at least they'd never found its secret. He had been walking through the churchyard of St Deniol's, one of the smaller churches in the city admiring its particularly ornate and numerous gargoyles, when he'd tripped because he wasn't looking at where his feet were. His eyes had been drawn to a cavity under a gravestone that could only be seen if you were flat on your face in the churchyard, and even then it was hard to see. It was probably the first time he'd ever felt his eyes drawn to something the way they sometimes were... the space was big enough for a man to slide his arm inside – easily big enough for a boy to do so, and it had struck him as an excellent hiding place. He had been looking for one. Perfidy had told him to – everybody needed a cache where they could hide the things they'd need if everything went wrong. As long as you weren't greedy and handed over nearly everything you found to her for the crew, it was all right to keep a little back for the storm that would come. Leo had been careful. He'd only left a few coins there at first, but when they hadn't been found over the course of a couple of months, and he'd managed to come into the possession of some sort of gem encrusted ring – he thought it was an emerald, but if he showed it to anybody who'd know for sure, he'd probably lose it, he'd taken to leaven that just inside the cavity. Anyone who found the cavity would take the ring. As long as the ring was there, nobody had found the cavity. A year and a half the ring had been there now. And it was still there. This was a safe hiding place. He took out the pair of dice and placed the one with seven sides and seven dots upon its side deep inside the cavity. He kept the other. This was the safest place he knew to keep something.

It might have been the only safe place in his life.

The next order of business was to have a wash. It was only a week since the last time he'd gone into the river, but with the weather changing it might be a while before he would want to force himself to do it again. If you wanted to have any hope of getting clean, you had to come up to the northern sides to go into the river – swimming in the southern sides was liable to leave you muckier when you came out than when you went in. You could get even cleaner by going out of the city altogether and swimming north of the city walls, but he never really felt comfortable going outside the walls and the only times he ever did it was at the end of winter and the start of spring when he really had to try and get all the winter muck off himself. There was another option – you could pay to use the public baths. He knew that Perfidy did that once a week, but Perfidy also went to church on Haligdae. She said she needed both. He didn't understand that, but then he didn't understand a lot of what she did.

He knew where to go to swim within the city walls. There was a little stretch of riverside not far from the north river gate where it was allowed. If you really wanted to, you could go in just about anywhere – once you were north of docksides, ships couldn't get further up, and even boats were uncommon – but people didn't like it if somebody just stripped off and dived in. Well, the Church didn't like it, anyway, and that meant people had to not like it too. The place where they would let you swim kept men and women apart, except for letting families stay together in the middle. It was run by an order of – he'd heard that they weren't really nuns, but that's what they looked like to him. Anyway, they did not make you pay to go in, though they would make you pay a penny if you wanted a towel. Today he would pay a penny. It was not as cold as it had been in the morning, but it was still warm rather than hot. He stripped off his tunic and dropped it on the ground and made to dive into the river.

“Pick that up!”

He turned around and saw one of the – if they weren't nuns, what were they? They dressed like nuns. All right, standing around like this woman did watching naked men and boys swimming all day didn't seem like very nunly behaviour, but it was probably more fun than praying all day. She was pointing at his tunic on the ground. “Don't leave that there on the ground. It's so dirty you should probably go in with it on. But at least put it on one of the shelves.”

He did as she told him. He was in a fairly vulnerable state, not one you sensibly disobeyed anyone in, and then he went into the river. He didn't go far away from his tunic, of course. He wasn't very good at swimming anyway, but being robbed was a bigger risk than drowning – somebody would pull you out if you began to sink but they were not likely to help you chase after your stolen clothes. All together, it only took a few short minutes before he was out and towelled off and dressed again. Much cleaner than he'd been before – he could see the faded scars on his arm and chest that he couldn't normally see - and clean enough to do the last thing he needed to do. He looked at the tunic. It really was horribly dirty. He hadn't noticed before. But again, he seemed to be seeing things so much more clearly than he ever had before. But he walked down to the edge of the river again and tried dipping his tunic in it. It came out wet and dirty. He tried again. It was just wet. Not clean.

The nun like woman was next to him again. She had picked up his towel from where he had dropped it on the ground. “Wrap that around yourself. It's one thing when your swimming or bathing, but you're out of the water now. Have you never washed clothes before?”

“No. It's never really come up.”

She giggled, and he realised she was actually quite young. Grown up but if she wasn't a nun, she might not be married yet. No, she wasn't a nun – what was she. She began bashing his tunic against the ground, and he decided just to ask her.

“Sister... I mean, are you a Sister?... what are you?”

She giggled again. “At the moment, I'm a laundress. But I know what you are asking. Yes, I am a Sister, but I'm not a nun. We call ourselves Oblate Sisters – I'm a member of the Oblates of St Ashanax. We're not nuns because we don't take all the vows they do, and we don't take our vows for life. We're healers. We take care of people who are sick.”

“And people who are going for a swim.”

“It's part of the same thing. A lot of our Order go down to the lands of Crusades and we've learnt a lot down there. There's a lot of new ideas about sickness.” She looked at his chest. “Do you know what the Slumpox is?”

She'd seen the scars. Almost faded, but they were still there. “They think I had it as a baby.”

“It used to go through the southern sides almost every year. Killed about half the people who got it – you were lucky to live, Gatanedes and the Saints be praised, very few babies who get it do. It's been five years now since it was seen in the city. We've had something to do with that.” She picked up his tunic and wrung it out. “I am afraid this is about as clean as this is going to get. You need to try and wash your clothes at least once a.... month. Let's be realistic. They'll last longer and you'll itch a lot less. And you're less likely to get sick too.”

He pulled it on. “Thank you, Sister.” He had one more thing he needed to do this day.

This took some courage. He had to be brave. But he had every right to do it. He headed across to the eastern side of the city to Cushion Street. He'd never been in Cushion Street before, and it was everything he had been told. A whole street of buildings that were just for selling things. Not stalls, but proper buildings. With walls facing the street that were at least half made of panes of glass. This was where the rich people shopped – shopped themselves, he had been told, rather than sending servants. It was only when he fully stepped into the street that he really saw its beauty – the windows facing towards the sun that was now low in the sky, not much above the city wall glowed in the sunlight. The road was paved with cobbles – clean cobbles – they obviously didn't let horses in this street and it looked like even dogs weren't welcome. Unless they were very well trained dogs. He looked around. Everywhere he saw rich people in the finest hose, and tunics, and cloaks and capes, and hats of all design. Nearly all the men wore swords, and so did some of the women. And rich purses, on their belts.

“Out of my way, Ruffian.” He realised he was blocking traffic, having frozen in place just outside a door. The person who was telling him to move was a boy in his mid teens, dressed in dark blue hose, with a deep red tunic, and a ridiculous orange hat with a feather in it. Even the boy was wearing something that was almost a sword. “Get out of my way, and get off this street, unless you want a kicking.”

“None of that!” It was a sharp voice with a tone of command, and Leo turned and saw a Sergeant of the City Guard accompanied by a squad of guardsmen. “You've every right, my Lord, to ask the boy to get out of your way. But this is a public street, and he has every right to walk it. And you've no right to threaten him with violence without any reason to do so at all.”

The boy glared at Leo. Then nodded at the Sergeant and pushed his way past Leo, and began walking down the street. The Sergeant stepped up to Leo, and said quietly.

“You've every right to walk here, but if I see you doing anything you don't have a right to do, I'll run you in so fast your feet won't touch the ground until just before they hang you. Got it?”

Leo nodded. He got it.

“Good Lad. Stay that way.”

Leo stepped closer to the walls and windows and looked up and down the street. Every shop had a sign hanging outside its doors. He couldn't read the words, but the symbols they used were still the same as the ones you saw anywhere else even if they were better painted. It wasn't hard to find the spool and scissors of a tailors, across the road and two doors down. And he went inside. A bell rang as he entered and a woman looked up from behind a counter. She was cross eyed but somehow she seemed to fix both of them on him.

“Show me some silver or get out,” she said.

Leo already had the coins in his hand. He held one up between his fingers.

“All right. What do you want, young Master?”

“Hose. Some woollen hose. Good and thick for winter. And a tunic too.”

“Come over here, then. What colour?”

That was a question he had never been asked before on the few occasions, he had been buying clothes. “Blue. Definitely blue.”

The lady looked him up and down. “How old are you?”

“Six.”

“I'm not a magistrate, boy. I'm trying to fit you with some hose. And what I've got for six years olds, you do not want. Ten?”

You never answered that question. You stayed under seven. But he wanted hose that fitted. “Probably.”

“How well do you eat?”

“Why?”

“Can't see your waist, can I, and I doubt you've any braises under that tunic. Now I don't care – I've got five sons, but a ten year old boy might. Are you skinny?”

“Yes.” Two bowls of scumgullion wouldn't have changed that. Six more – he remembered what Borgen had arranged – wouldn't change it either. He lifted up his tunic so she could see. He didn't care. That was a just another luxury you didn't have in his life. The lady drew in her breath. “Maybe what I've got for six year olds would suit you better. But you got long legs. Pull your tunic down, boy. I've seen what I need to see.”

She looked on her shelves and pulled down some blue hose. “Try these on.”

He pulled them on. They were long enough - a bit longer than they needed to be, but not by much, but they hung very loosely. He'd have to find some ends of rope on the docks. The lady lifted up his tunic without asking and had a look at the waist.

“Take them off.”

“They fit.”

“They don't come close to fitting. But I can fix that. Take them off.”

He handed them to her and she walked over to the counter and picked up a needle and thread.

“I can't pay for alterations.” Somebody had told him once that this was a common trick from tailors – he'd never expected to need that knowledge.

“It's a good thing I'm not charging you then. Two florins for the hose, whether they fit you or not. Another two for a tunic – a red one, I think? I don't sell silly orange hats I'm afraid. This will only take about half an hour and it's a slow day.” She looked at him. “Wait here. Don't touch anything.”

She stood up and walked into another room at the back of the shop. She came back in a couple of minutes later holding a wooden platter with a chunk of bread, a lump of cheese, and an onion on it. In her other hand, she had a mug. “Sit down over there and have this. There's a limit to what I can do with needle and thread.”

“Mistress, you don't have to -”

She spoke quietly. “Don't you walk into my shop and tell me what I have to and don't have to do. I probably should be doing a lot more. But this is what I can do today.”

Leo realised he was hungry. Not badly hungry, not the type of hungry that made you cry in the night, but it was getting towards sundown and it was a long time since porridge. He ate the cheese and the pickled onion, and the soft bread. Then looked at the mug.

“What is this stuff, Mistress Tailor?”

She looked at him. “It's milk. Cow's milk.” Then she went back to her sewing. Leo watched her. Perfidy had taught him how to sew – she'd tried to teach him to knit as well, but that had been a complete disaster. Compared to this lady, though, Perfidy had been about as good at sewing as Leo thought he was at knitting. He supposed it was because it was her trade, but she was very fast and made it look so effortless. Until the end, when she picked up some scissors to cut the left over thread when she became quite clumsy for a moment. She put down the scissors and stood up and handed the hose to him along with something else – a garment of plain, uncoloured linen – what were they?

“They're braies. That's a pair I made for somebody who never came back. You can take them for free. You wear them under your hose.”

“Looks like something a girl would wear.”

“A good girl does if she can. But boys and men wear them as well if they have them to wear. You will put them on. And the hose.”

The hose were much closer to fitting now around his waist. Very close indeed. He could probably even run in them if he had to.

“Thank you.” She was handing him a red tunic which he pulled on as well. “Do you want to keep the old one, or should I burn it?”

“I should take it with me. Somebody else might wear it.”

“True Gods preserve them. All right, that's four florins you owe me.”

He handed over four of the silver coins. And walked to the door.

“True Gods preserve you, Lad.”

He turned “You too, Mistress.”

The sun had gone below the walls, but the light meant it hadn't set yet. If he headed to the Three Shovels now, he'd be able to get his scumgullion by the time he got there. And so he headed to the southern sides. He was almost at the Three Shovels when he realised his hose had a small pocket just inside the waist. He found it because the two silver florins inside it pushed against his skin.


	3. Chapter 3

He walked into the Three Shovels and instantly felt warm. It was probably mostly the huge fires and maybe partly the new hose as well, but he felt warmer even than those things seemed to justify. Maybe it was the milk. He'd heard people say that certain drinks made you feel warmer. He walked over to the bar.

“Hullo.”

The girl behind the bar was named Jobet. He'd known her as long as he could remember knowing anybody. She'd been like him. And Perfidy, but had found a job at the Three Shovels eventually. He wondered if Perfidy would be so lucky – but he suddenly realised that she was probably only interested in a job that let her feed six people. And there weren't many jobs like that around. This was the first time this had ever occurred to him. It was a big thought.

“Hullo. What are you after?” Jobet asked.

“Oh... Borgen arranged for me to have a bowl of scumgullion every night this week, last night?”

“Really? Nobody told me – it was my night off last night. Hang on.” She walked over to a piece of slate with markings on it in white chalk that hung on the wall. Somebody must have taught her to read. She came back.

“Yes, it's up there – Leo, one bowl scumgullion a day until the fifteenth.”

“Where does it say that?”

Jobet looked around. They weren't busy yet. She walked back over to the slate. “See these three letters here? That's an L and an E and an O in classic script. Or at least Merids' best try at classic script. That's your name. Then we got an I – it means one when it's a number. Got an S and a G for scumgullion – God knows how you spell the whole word – then T I L for meaning til then an X and a V for fifteen... don't ask me why but X is ten and V is five. Makes sense when you know how. I was surprised how useful writing and reading is. Anyway, I'd better get you your scumgullion before I stop being a tavern wench and turn into a dame school mistress.”

She came back with a wooden bowl and handed it to him. He walked over to a table and ducked down to go under it.

“Don't do that, Leo!” he heard Jobet say. He looked over at her. “You'll make your lovely new hose filthy if you crawl around in the rushes and whatever else is down there.”

“They'll get dirty anyway.”

“I'm sure they will, eventually. Take a seat. We're not crowded yet, and you must be popular for somebody to be feeding you. Don't hide under tables. Only hide when you have to.”

He took a seat. Why did any girl or woman who was older than him seem to think they could tell him what to do. At least the Guard Sergeant had had to earn his rank.

The scumgullion was good. One of the good things about being hungry a lot was that you really did tend to enjoy your food and he had been a bit worried that the bread and cheese and onion and milk that he had had would ruin the scumgullion he was so lucky to be able to enjoy. But it was as good as it had ever been. It lasted longer than it normally did, he found he was not shovelling it in so fast, so maybe he even got to enjoy it more.

While he was eating, the tavern had been filling up and was getting more and more noisy. So it was noticeable when the noise suddenly diminished. He looked up and saw the reason. Three Guardsmen – a one stripe corporal and two others had just walked in through the door.

The City Guard were people you treated with considerable respect. And they normally did the same to you. His encounter with the Sergeant earlier in the day had been fairly typical of dealings he'd had with them before. They were pretty fair about making sure everybody got what was coming to them, so if you weren't dealing with them for breaking a law, things were normally fine. The problem was, sometimes it was hard to know if you were breaking a law or not.

“What can I do for you, Corporal?” said Arkamus, who hearing the spreading quiet had come out of the kitchen to be behind the bar.

“Good evening Master Tavernkeeper. Nobody needs to be alarmed. I was just told to go around all the Taverns by my Sergeant and warn you about a man whose going around cheating at dice. He's taken a lot of different people.”

Arkamus sounded a bit perplexed. “It doesn't sound like its worth your time to be going around Taverns. Cheats are – well, they're not uncommon.”

“This one is. Very well dressed man. From Algandy. We haven't been able to get a good description of him beyond that. But he comes in, wins a lot of money, and leaves. Nobody seems to work out he's cheating at the time – not sure how they've worked it out now to be honest.”

“Oh him. He was in here last night. But he left without his purse. Leo, over there -” he pointed straight at Leo. “- he worked out he was cheating. And the man admitted it.”

“Really? I'm impressed. Ah... hate to ask it this way, but when you say he left, he was walking at the time, wasn't he?”

“Yes. He had a lot of gold. He was willing to leave it behind and we were willing to take it.”

“Well... good. We can't have people taken matters into their own hands. I suppose. Leo. How did you know he was cheating?”

“Um.... well, I was under the table, see, and he reached down and I saw him swapping the dice under the table. So I stood up and told everybody.”

“Swapping dice? What was special about the dice? Where are the dice?”

“I took them. Nobody stopped me. Nobody seemed to care after he handed over his purse.”

“It's all right, Lad. You're not in trouble. Did you notice what was special about the dice?”

“Ah yes.” How should he answer this one. “They had two sixes on them. Not one.”

“Pretty crude. Obviously effective though. Where are they?”

He looked down at his feet. “I...”

“Come on, out with it, Lad.”

“I sold them to a sailor on the docks.”

“Ah... I wish you hadn't done that. That's dishonest dealing. I have to -”

“Give the Lad a break, Corporal.” Jobet spoke up. “He's got no parents. He has to find some way to live. Would you rather he made it picking pockets.”

“Very well dressed for an orphan.” The Corporal looked at him. “Where did you get the money for such fine clothes?”

“I got a good price for the dice.”

“That's convenient.”

Borgen raised a hand from a seat near the door. “Corporal, I will swear oath – and lots of other people here could as well – that we've never seen Leo in those clothes before. He's obviously got them today. He must have got some money today. An unusual amount of money.”

“Is that true, Leo?” asked the Corporal. “When and where did you get the clothes.”

“I bought them from a cross eyed tailor in Cushion Street. She was nice. One of your Sergeants saw me in the street there as well. He was nice too... well, he didn't want to arrest me, anyway.”

“Enough of that. I'm just doing my job.” The Corporal considered. “How old are you?”

“Six.”

“Yeah...well, I ain't got time to prove you're not. Just stay out of trouble.”

He and the other two guardsmen drank deeply from the three tankards that had appeared on the bar, and walked outside. Leo gave them time to get away from the tavern, then left himself. He was feeling warm and restless. He was glad he had kept his old tunic – the clothes he had bought for winter seemed too warm right now, at least for inside a warm tavern. He walked down onto the docks in the hope of feeling a breeze – there was often a wind across the river in the evening.

Somebody was following him. He was not sure how he knew that. He was not even sure if he did know it. It was just a feeling after all and feelings could be wrong. Mybe it was not the best idea to be walking along the docks after sunset dressed in clothes that might make people think he had money. Maybe that was why the noble boy had worn that short sword – probably not, but Leo was starting to wish that he had a knife or something. No, that was stupid. He'd been told often enough that carrying a blade that you did not know how to use would just get you killed – and worse the city guard came down very hard on any thief who had a weapon. But he was sure now that somebody was following him because he could hear their footsteps – quiet, but you could hear them, keeping pace with him. How far behind? That was hard to tell.

There was a stair ahead, up off the docks and on to River Road. He waited until the last second, then sharply turned right and up the stair. He heard the sound of the footsteps behind him change as they went from wood to stone – the person who was following him was only a second or so behind. He was surprised he could not hear the person's breathing. He tried to quicken his pace, and almost stumbled, and the stumble made him panic. He began to run. He ran. Was the person still after him? He was not sure and he did not dare to look. He was close to home now – only a hundred yards away straight down the road. He turned right and ran for half a minute through the empty fish market. His eyes became fixed on a narrow gap he had never noticed before between two buildings and he darted down it, hoping it was narrow enough to slow any large pursuer. He emerged nearly six feet above the road without any warning – he'd been running through darkness without really realising it, and the city was not flat. He had no real idea where he was now, except it was near pitch black, and he had landed on top of somebody who had probably been asleep but who was now wide awake and swearing. Leo pushed forward off the unfortunate person and headed for a rectangle of blackness outlined with slivers of light that was hopefully a door.

It was, and he found himself outside again in a street which he did recognise. He ran along it, then ducked through two alleys, and found himself almost face to face with the corporal and his guards. They were right next to the brazier of a nut seller, so there was enough light for everybody to see each other.

“Somebody is chasing me!” Leo was scared enough to ask the guard for help. He'd never been as scared in all his life. Not even when he'd been arrested and he thought he could be hanged. He leaned against the wall and realised he was out of breath. Well beyond being out of breath in fact. He forced himself to calm down. He had no right nor reason to be this scared.

The corporal reached forward and put his hand on Leo's shoulder. “Steady, Lad. You're safe. We won't let anybody hurt you. Why are you being chased? Did you try and take something you shouldn't?”

“I wouldn't be asking for your help if I had!”

“True enough. Now where's the person?”

“I don't know. Somewhere behind me. Back that way.”

The corporal looked at the two guardsmen. “Go have a look. I'll stay with the boy.” The guards walked off down the alley way, while the corporal took a twist of nuts from the small table next to the nutsellers brazier and popped one in his mouth. “Lovely. Want a nut, Leo?”

Leo shook his head. He was glad for the help that the corporal was offering, but he seemed so casual about it. Maybe that made sense though. Whoever had been following him had probably been after an easy mark, and Leo had made it hard. They probably wouldn't have kept chasing him all the way. He hadn't actually heard them since the river stairs.

The corporal looked at him. “Are you really an orphan? That wasn't just some story to make me feel sorry for you?”

“As far as I know I am. I can't remember parents, anyway.”

“Then if I were you, I'd go off now to wherever it is you go. Whoever was chasing you will have given up.”

“Yes. That's what I think too.”

“Can you whistle?”

“Yes.”

“Three sharp whistles – two long with a short in the middle - is our signal for help. We hear it, we come running. Do it for no good reason and you won't like what happens when we get there, but there's more than normal patrols down here at the moment so it's actually worth knowing how to call for help. Now get off with you.”

Leo walked back to the riverside and headed home. You heard whistles sometimes but he never knew they meant something. He knew that sailors got annoyed at anybody who whistled on the docks, and wondered why.

He pushed aside the sacking and found a decent fire going. There was wood piled up in the corner. Everybody was asleep except for Perfidy who wasn't there. He knew she would not be far away – she had probably just gone outside to answer a call of nature – they were lucky, the back wall of their home was also the back wall of a set of public latrina, ancient but still serviceable, so you did not have to go far. Perfidy did make sure you went at least that far, though.

She came back in past the sacking and stared at Leo. “You had better have a decent amount of coins, turning up dressed like that. He handed over twenty florins. He had not been sure how much good clothes would cost, and he hadn't expected them to cost him nothing at all as they had wound up costing. She looked at the pile and said. “I kept you some fish.”

“Is it Freyasdae?” They didn't always have fish then, but Perfidy tried when she could. He didn't think it could be because Freyasdae scumgullion was.... better than starving but not much better. The little bones made it a penance to eat. Priests probably liked that but Leo didn't. He had a hard time keeping the days of the week straight. You always knew Haligdae because of the bells calling people to Church, and fish on Freyasdae was somewhat reliable. But he could not see the point of learning the rest. Perfidy knew them though.

“No, it's not. I just found some cheap fish for sale at the market. It's not bad. It's not good. But it's not bad.”

“I've had scumgullion. I've got it for the next five days. I did something for Borgen.”

“Nothing you shouldn't have done, I hope.”

“Bit rich coming from you, Mistress Thiefmistress.”

“That doesn't work. And I don't want you saying it. I do what I have to do, and so do you. And don't think I've forgotten this morning. And now this fish is wasted too.”

“Wasted? You did eat the bread, didn't you?” Leo was overcome with the horrible idea that maybe Perfidy had been stubborn enough not to eat it.

“Of course I did... and thank you. I suppose. You were probably right. But I wish you'd told me about your scumgullion every night thing. I could have given all of us more fish.”

“You eat my share. Nobody will say anything.”

“Leo...”

“Perfidy, you're twice my size. You need to eat the most.”

“I most certainly am not twice your size!”

“All right. Exaggeration. But you need to eat. I think you're skinnier than I am and the lady who sold me these clothes thought I was skinny as a six year old.”

“All right. I'll eat the fish. And we have bread for breakfast.”

“Ah... I should have bought a knife.”

“I don't want you carrying a knife.”

“Just for bread.”

“Yes, well... just for bread... would be all right. Now you get undressed and get to sleep. I want to put the fire out. You'll be warm enough under the blanket and you'll be too hot if you sleep in all of that.”

“You don't undress to go to sleep.”

“No, I don't. But I also don't have a blanket.”

Leo pulled off his tunic, and then his hose. He still had the braies on and he looked back to see if Perfidy laughed at them. He still wasn't sure they weren't for girls. She saw his questioning look and misunderstood it. “Yes, all right, Leo, you can keep those on.”

“They're not girls clothes, are they?”

“No. Not at all. Just... look, Leo, there are some things you do not need to know about yet. All right.”

“All right.”

He carefully folded the hose and tunic as she looked on approvingly. Sometimes he remembered. He didn't bother with the old tunic he had just left on the floor, but she didn't seem to have noticed that.

“I see you had a wash.” she sounded approving too.

“Yes. At the river bath. I talked to the Sister there, did you know they are not really Nuns?”

“They look like Nuns.”

“I know, but they're not. She said they were Oblates of St Ashanax. They look after sick people and they don't do the same oaths as Nuns.”

“I've heard of them. I didn't know they were in the city. I thought they only went on Crusade. St Ashanax?”

Perfidy knew her saints just like she knew the days of the week. And there were more of them. “What is Ashanax saint of, Perfidy.”

“Wayfarers and lost travellers. He's one my favourites. Well, whatever they are, at least it's a place you can get clean. Well, clean for you. I'll need to cut your hair again soon too.”

He hated having his hair cut. She always pulled it. He knew that was because the scissors were blunt and spending money on sharpening was a luxury that wasn't worthwhile until the hair did not cut at all, but he still hated it. “Maybe I should keep it long for winter.”

“It's nearly as long as mine and you'll get nits if it isn't tied back or cut. But I can't do it by firelight. So go to sleep or I'll tell you a Saint story and make you learn a prayer. Good night.”

He curled up in his corner and pulled the old and heavy blanket over himself. He counted to one hundred slowly and then pretended to be asleep. He heard Perfidy crawl over towards him and he felt her hair as placed her head near his to kiss him lightly. She did not know that he knew that she still did that. As long as she did not know he knew, he did not feel like he had to stop her.

Just before he drifted off to sleep in the last moments of waking, he heard a lot of whistling in the distance. It meant something... didn't it? He slept.


	4. Chapter 4

He was shaken awake by Perfidy who handed him his hose and his tunic, while holding a finger to her mouth in a sign for silence. The others were still asleep and once he was dressed, he put his head close to Perfidy's mouth to listen to what she had to whisper to him.

“There are troops on the street. Most of the city guard by the looks of it. I've no idea what is happening but something is up. I need you to go out and find out what you can. Be back quickly.

He went out past the sacking and looked around. He could see a squad of a dozen guardsmen lead by an officer marching down the street. You very rarely saw guard officers in the southern side and he had never seen guardsmen marching before. He had seen soldiers marching – men at arms and soldiers of the King's Army during parades. But not guardsmen. And he had never seen guardsmen with spears before. Actually, they weren't spears, were they – he dug deep into his memory for the word he had heard once – halberds. Mostly a spear with a bit of an axe. The guards walked past him without even a glance in his direction. They weren't all carrying halberds. A couple had cross bows. You did not seem very often either.

He headed for the Three Shovels. It was a centre of the community and people would gather there for news. By the time he arrived, quite a crowd had gathered and some of them had information. He listened.

“Three guardsmen – a corporal and two others. All three of them dead just down by the fishmarket. Brutally murdered. The guard are flooding the southern sides to try and catch them that did it.”

“An excellent summation.” Every head turned to see who had spoken. The deeply cultured tones were not ones you normally heard, except in parody, in the southern parts of the city. It was a voice of a noble man who wanted to be sure that everybody knew he was noble. It was a tall man in full plate armour that bore the emblem of the city guard. Leo stared at him. He was certain that he had never seen the man before, but he still seemed very familiar, somehow. The man looked down on the crowd from atop a splendid black war horse, and then he swung down from the saddle. A guard stepped forward to take the reins.

“For any of you who do not know me, I am Robard, Earl of Mancaster and Baron of Ongar.” Marshal Mancaster. Everybody knew who he was. He had been placed in charge of the city guard about twenty years earlier, and he was the major reason there was any law in order in the city. He was a vassal of the King, but he worked for the city authorities – the rights of the city had to recognised. He had a reputation in the city of being a hardworking, honest, and decent man. But one who was obsessed with the law and public order. He surveyed the crowd and just for a second, Leo felt as if he had made personal eye contact with the man. “I would like to speak to Master Arkamus.”

Arkamus stepped forward and bowed deeply. “My Lord, I am he.”

“Good Master. I'm told the men who were killed came into your tavern last night on official business. Is that so?”

“Yes, My Lord. Or at least, three guardsmen did. I can't say myself if they were the men who were killed...” Arkamus hesitated then continued. “I'm sorry for your loss, My Lord. I mean... for the loss of your men.”

“Thank you, Master Innkeeper. I'm afraid this was the last place we know the men were. They had a list of establishments they were to visit and they never reached the next one. I am ordering the closure of the Three Shovels, until I have a list of everybody who was in the Tavern last night. If you cooperate, Master Arkamus, you should be able to open for lunch. Anyone within the sound of my voice, hear this and spread the news. Any person who can provide evidence that leads to the successful capture or slaughter or the murderer or murderers of my men will received a one hundred florin reward paid for by myself, and a Royal Pardon if they were involved outside of doing the deed themselves. Any man, woman, or child, found to have committed this crime after a fair trial by the city magistrates, or to have held back information, or to have otherwise aided the criminals, will hang as Gatanedes and his Saints are my witness.”

There was dead silence. He continued. “But there will be a fair trial. My men are under instructions, the strongest instructions and orders I can give them that the innocent are to be treated as innocent, and the presumption is innocence. We will only act with proof of the sort needed for a trial. I have flooded your streets with my men. They will be gone by nightfall. Go about your business. God bless you all. God save the King.”

Leo headed for the fishmarket to see what he could see, and wondered what he should say. If anything. You never talked to guards men if you could avoid it. But it sounded like he might have been one of the last people to see the murdered guards. And the corporal – the corporal had offered him some nuts. Nuts he wasn't paying for, but even so. The corporal had been willing to take some time to make sure Leo had felt safer. And now he and his men were dead. When he arrived at the fish market, he found it trying to do its normal business – people needed to buy and sell their fish – but a gallows – big enough to hang a dozen men by the looks of it – was being erected at one side. Most executions were carried out, outside the city to the north between Ongus and Ongar, but everybody knew that sometimes the city made a point of executing somebody as close to their crime as possible, to set an example. Even erecting the gallows sent a signal.

Should he tell what he knew. It wasn't much. Would it really make a difference? Who could tell. And if he didn't tell and somebody found out he knew – the Marshall had been very clear. Any man, woman, or child who held back information would hang. Leo did not want to hang. He stared at the gallows and imagined being dragged to it while all the people he knew watched. He could not imagine anything worse. That was probably the point. He'd seen a hanging – Perfidy had made him promise to go to one after that time she knew he'd stolen on the northern sides. He wouldn't mind if he never saw one again, and he certainly didn't want to see one from up as close as you could possibly get to it.

It was time to head back home in any case. He decided he would ask Perfidy for advice. She would like that. He decided to use the latrina before he went back inside – he had rushed off in such a hurry that he hadn't before, and as soon as he went inside, he realised something was wrong.

Living space was at a premium in the city, and even their little space behind the latrina had to be rented. The rent was cheap and simple enough – Perfidy had agreed to throw a bucket of water across the floors and seats in the latrina each morning and like anything she regarded as a duty she never forgot to do it. But it certainly had not been done this morning. To make sure, he actually looked into the woman's side of the building – it wasn't impossible for this type of place to become horribly dirty very quickly, but it was less likely to happen both sides at once, he thought. The woman's side was not as bad, but there was no sign that any water had been thrown anywhere. And Perfidy had been awake when he had left, so she had definitely had time to clean.

He slowly walked around to where their sacking door hung, and took a deep breath. He reached into the waistband of his hose and pulled them up as high as possible, then straightened his tunic. He pulled the sacking wide – something they hardly ever did as it was very easy to pull it off, sacks in good condition were still used as sacks – so there would be as much light as possible inside and stepped in.

There were two other people in the room. Perfidy, and the one time owner of the magic dice. Perfidy was – well, more or less, sitting in the man's lap, because he had his jewelled dagger to her neck and was holding her close. Perfidy looked... not exactly calm, but was showing no great signs of agitation either. The man looked at him.

“You will close that door, Leo. Right now.”

Leo pulled the sacking back into place.

“Sit down on the floor there. Don't move. We need to talk.”

Leo sat down. He spoke – and was horrified that what he said came out in a squeaking piping tone, that showed how scared he was. “If you want your dice back, I can get it.”

“I do want my dice back. But I also want to know how you knew I was cheating.”

“I... I was under the table. I saw you swapping the dice.” Leo had thought that was fairly obvious. He had after all emerged from under the table.

“Yes... interesting.” Leo realised the man no longer had an Algandarve accent.

“Why is it interesting?”

“You have sharp eyes, boy. That might be a reason to let you live.”

It was odd... in the tavern, he had not really noticed the man's face. He had obviously seen it well enough to recognise the man because he could, but he could not have described him. And that seemed very odd, now that he had the chance to look at the man properly because the man was not exactly... normal looking. His eyes were narrower than they should have been. Only slightly, but enough to notice. There was little colour in them – a pupil and a white and very little around it. His nose and ears and chin were angular and pointed. He wasn't exactly ugly – if anything he was the opposite. He was just distinctive, and he should have been easy to describe. But Leo couldn't have before, and even now... the man saw him staring at him, and was obviously waiting for Leo to speak. Better do so.

“If you kill me, you won't get your dice back.”

“You will not let me kill this girl.”

“He will!” said Perfidy. “If he knows what is good for him! Run, Leo!”

“The others ran when you told them to. He chose to come in. He's older, and he understands better. Leo, how do you plan to give me back my dice?”

“You tell me.”

“No, you tell me. I want you to tell me how you will do it.”

“We arrange to meet somewhere. And I bring you your dice.”

“Why don't you bring it back here?”

“Because if I walk out of here leaving you behind, I'm going to get the guards.”

“Is that a threat?”

“You have the knife, Master... I don't know what to call you that won't make you angry.”

He heard a sound right at the edge of what he could hear, just outside the sacking wall. Leo continued talking.

“I have to get the guard, if you give me the chance. Otherwise it doesn't matter what else happens, they will hang me. You're a murderer. You murdered three guards. The corporal and the others. You were following me last night. Because... I don't know why exactly. But you were. And the corporal tried to help me. And you killed him.”

“He got in my way. And you are doing so as well.”

“Then I guess it's time I got out of the way.” He threw himself sideways from his sitting position to try and lie as flat on the floor as possible. As he did so, he threw the dice he had been holding in his hand towards the gap at the side of the sacking door. The man's eyes followed it. And then a crossbow bolt thudded into his head right between below those eyes, shattering his face and head.

Perfidy was screaming. Which meant she was alive. No, actually Perfidy wasn't screaming. Somebody was screaming. Oh... Leo realised he was screaming. He was also being picked up and carried outside into the autumn sunlight. A guardsman had picked him up. Perfidy was outside as well, leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. Marshal Mancaster was standing there with a crossbow. The dead man was being dragged outside now. It was quite astonishing how much damage could be done to a man's head by a crossbow bolt fired at a range of less than five yards. Leo looked away.

The Marshall knelt down next to him. “The nutseller gave us your name and a description. And I had seen you at the Three Shovels. You could have told me then what you knew. It's a very good thing for you that you had the chance to get a confession out of him while I could hear it. It means I can give you this,” he pushed a purse into Leo's hands, instead of what would have happened otherwise. No mercy for those that kill my guards. No mercy for those who shield those that do those things.

He stood up. “We can't really hang him. Take his arms and legs off and place them around the city. Put the body on a spike in the fishmarket. Then get back to regular patrols.” He turned to Perfidy. “I am terribly sorry for the awful mess we've made of your home, Good Mistress. I can have my men clean it up.”

Perfidy stood up very straight. “I would rather clean it myself, my Lord.”

“Of course, you would. But I will send down a carpenter to put a proper door on this place. I'm afraid when we pulled the sack away it rather fell apart, and it's easier for me to find a door than a piece of sacking the right size.”

“I would not object to that.”

Perfidy and Leo watched the body being taken away on a cart. She turned to him. “See if you can find the others. I told them to run and keep running so they might be halfway to the sea by now – but more likely they are hiding around here.”

He handed Perfidy the purse. “That will have 100 florins in it.”

She stared at it. “You know, it would be worth being held at knifepoint every day if it could be guaranteed to have that type of payoff.”

Then she went pale and turned around, and threw up. Leo joined her.

It took him until nearly nightfall to find the others, and then they all went to the Three Shovels. They could afford to pay for scumgullion for the others.

Unfortunately it was Freyasdae. Fish scumgullion was barely worth it.

On Haligdae, Perfidy insisted that Leo go to Church. Well, insisted was probably not the right word. She simply woke him up and sat down next to him and spoke.

“You almost died on Freyasdae, Leo. So did I. And I was scared, and I know you were too. But I was more scared for you than I was for me. Because if I die, I know I'm going to get to Heaven eventually. But I don't know that about you. I'd feel better if I did. So I want you to go to Church. I don't care if you believe in the Saints. I do. I need to know that you will be all right. And the more you go, the better your chances are.”

So he went with her. It would have helped a lot if less had been in Bacchile. About the only Bacchile word he normally used was latrina and that didn't seem very appropriate in the Church. The bits that they did in Elleslandic, so he could understand what was going on was much more interesting.

'You shall not suffer a witch to live.' was the Priest's text of the day, and he was explaining that this did not mean that all who practiced magic had to die. Leo had actually wondered about that. Everybody knew that the King had a Sorcerer in his court just up the river, and there were a few others around as well. Nobody seemed to be trying to execute them though. According to the priest, if a wizard was an honest adherent of the True Faith who didn't go around pretending to be something he or she wasn't, it was all right. Working for the King so everybody knew you were a witch seemed to be all right. Leo wondered how much of this really just had to do with the fact that King probably would not like somebody trying to hang or burn a member of his Court, and the witch was probably easily able to stop anybody who tried anyway.

When the service was over, he went back past the fish market. The torso of the criminal was on display right in the middle on a spike, but unless you knew what it was, you would not know what it was. It had been covered in some sort of black sticky stuff to stop it rotting away. They used the same thing on boats. The gallows had been taken down, which was a bit of a relief. He really didn't need to see that everytime he went past the fish market. He was still a thief.

The new door that had been put on their home made things much more comfortable. Spending a little of the reward money made it even more so. The only sign of what had happened was a dent in the wall. The crossbow bolt had obviously gone all the way through.

Leo and Perfidy both suffered from nightmares. Each of them knew that about each other, but what could you do. At least the younger children hadn't been there to see what they had had to see. But the overwhelming feeling was relief. And it was only for a week or so. And things were back to normal.


	5. Chapter 5

The torso had vanished from the market – it couldn't have rotted so quickly as it had, so obviously something else had happened. Leo's week of scumgullion was over, and it really was time to get back into the serious business of making a living. You had to build up some resources for winter. Perfidy had the others out gathering wood, making it clear that she was relying on Leo to try and bring some more money in.

The weather was definitely feeling cooler and he was glad for his new clothes. But there was more to the clothes than just feeling warm.

His clothes stood out a bit in the southern sides. Perhaps choosing such strong colours had been a mistake. He knew he hadn't done it for any good reason, he had chosen the colours only because he had been annoyed by that noble boy who had treated him – well, as a noble tended to treat somebody from the wrong side of Cutter's Lane. It had been silly to get upset about it, and now it was making him conspicuous. Nobody had noticed him when he was wearing the same type of tunic of undyed wool or linen as anybody else wore. But it had occurred to him now that people might remember the boy in blue and red who'd bumped into them just before their purse was lost. And he wasn't sure what to do about that. Maybe he should go up north and do his pocket picking there – but a moment reflection told him that he'd only be slightly less noticeable up there. He wasn't dressed like a rich boy. He was dressed part way to being rich. He didn't have a hat – he certainly didn't want a silly orange hat, but most rich boys wore something on their heads. He didn't have boots. He didn't have a short sword. He could not pass for somebody who lived in the rich districts... but could he fix that?

Perfidy would be horrified at the idea of him doing this. Actively and painfully horrified, he was sure. Stealing in the northern side was ridiculously dangerous. But it was also where the greatest rewards were.

It wasn't fair. That was the whole problem. He did not want to be a thief. He did not want to steal. It was dangerous – and it was dishonest too. But there wasn't any other option, he could see. He was still too small to find an honest living out of what was available in the city. Perfidy was getting old enough now that she could probably find work... but she wouldn't be able to find work that let her support the people she wanted to. And that realisation became clearer in his head.

It began to rain heavily and the Three Shovels was just around the corner. That had been a positive change in his life. Even though he only got free food there for a week, he had become a regular, and stories had spread about how the person who had killed the guards had been killed himself because of Leo. People in the southern sides had not welcomed a large influx of guardsmen even with the reassurances of the Marshall that they would not remain, and Leo had got them to leave quickly. He was welcome in the Three Shovels, now, even if he just wanted to sit by the fire for a while. He did not have to buy them get out if he was noticed. But that was a problem too - he was less anonymous, more obvious. He didn't steal in the area near where he lived – but most people probably assumed he was a thief, because how else could he live?

Jobet saw him come in, and gestured with a finger for him to approach the bar. “Would you be able to do me a favour, Leo?”

“Probably. If you are asking me, it's probably something I can do.”

“Come with me.” Jobet lead him into the kitchen where she asked another one of the girls to come out and man the bar, and then she lead him up a narrow winding staircase at the back of the kitchens.

“Where are we going?”

“Up to my room.”

At the top of the staircase which had gone up quite a long way was a solid looking door, with writing on it. Big black writing. Jobet pulled a key on a long string from around her neck and put it into the lock. Leo looked at the writing. He wished he could read it.

“What does the writing say, Jobet.”

“Barmaids' quarters. No boys.”

“Can I go in?”

“Yes, you don't qualify as a boy for the purposes of that sign.”

“Oh. Why not?”

“Never you mind.”

They were in a long and narrow corridor now, with doors off it on one side and panels of thin horn on the other, thing enough to let in enough light to walk. Jobet opened a door and lead Leo into a small bedchamber. It had a small bed, and a small cupboard, and a small table with a small jug and basin on it. There was probably a small chamber pot under the bed but he couldn't see that. And there was a small window. Jobet was opening the shutters. “Come and look out of the window, Leo.”

He did and he was looking down a sloping roof below. He could see a gutter at the bottom, and in the gutter he could see a leather bag. Next to it lying lengthways along the gutter was a broomstick.

“It's mine. It has some things of mine in it. I had it on the window ledge and it fell. I can't get out through the window. You're small enough that you could.”

“What about the broomstick?”

“That wasn't long enough to reach the bag from here, and I overstretched and let it go.”

Leo looked at the roof. It was tiled and the rain was still coming down quite heavily. It looked wet and slippery. Yes, he could get out of the window – just. But it didn't exactly look safe.

“Is what is in bag important?”

“It's just about everything I own that matters to me.”

He sighed and pushed himself out through the window onto the roof. He sat down and began to carefully inch his way down to the gutter. He tried to work out exactly where he would end up if he fell off the roof. It was probably going to be the ally where he had tested the dice.

He slipped, and for a moment of absolute terror, he was sure he would fall over the edge. But when his feet struck the gutter, it turned out to be fixed very strongly in place, much more strongly than he expected, and it stopped him sliding. He sat there breathing deeply. It was actually exhilarating once you realised you weren't falling off the roof.

The view was impressive. The Three Shovels was three stories tall, with an attic as well, the tallest building in this area of the city, except for the spires and towers of a couple of the churches. And he was looking south, which meant he was looking down the slope of the city, into the south wall district.

Southwall... certainly not a rich area, but due to a fire sometime back, newer than the area around docksides and a little more prosperous. If he went down there, he would probably blend in quite well from what he could recall of the few times he'd been down there before. And he wouldn't be known there.

“Are you all right?”Jobet called from above him.

“Yes. But I have a sore bum. I'd better not have ripped my hose.”

“If you have, I'll darn them. If you get my bag because it has my sewing kit in it. It is why you are on the roof, after all.”

He picked up the bag from near his feet – it was a satchel type bag and he pulled it over his shoulder. He then grabbed the broomstick and twisting passed one end of it up to Jobet. She took a grip and helped pull him to the window, where he climbed through and tumbled onto the floor.

“Your hose are fine.” Jobet took the bag and opened it, and pulled out a jar. “Here. Take these. There's about a third of them left.”

He looked at the jar. Inside were small green and white striped balls – they looked like marbles, but weren't quite round enough.

“What are they?”

Jobet opened the jar and took one out. “Open your mouth.”

He did, and she put one in there. “Suck it. Don't chew, or it won't last.”

The taste was incredible. The most wonderful thing he had ever tasted. “What are these?”

“Minji candy. Rare and expensive. But you got my bag back.”

“Where do you buy them? How much do they cost.”

“I didn't buy them. A boy bought them for me. There's a place in Cushion Street that sells them. And that jar probably cost three or four crowns.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you. Now I'd better get back to work, and if Arkamus catches you in my room, he might feel like he has to do something about it anyway. So let's go.”

As they descended the stairs, Leo asked a question. “Before you became a barmaid, Jobet, you were like me, weren't you?”

“In some ways.”

“How did you stop?”

She looked at him. “Are you tied up with the rooks?”

“What?”

“If you're not tied up with the rooks – then you just stop, if you can find something better. If you are tied up with the rooks, then it's harder. Took to Perfidy. She got clear of them.”

“Who are the rooks.”

Jobet looked surprised at the question. “Ask Perfidy. It's not my place to tell you if she hasn't.”

Jobet gave him a crust of bread before he went out into the street again. He put it inside his tunic – he was still sucking on the candy she had given him. He was holding the jar – he decided that putting something made of glass inside his clothes next to his skin would not be particularly sensible. He'd go and hide it at home, before heading down to Southwall. On the way, he picked up some sticks he found – firewood. He wasn't going back empty handed.

Perfidy wasn't in their home, and he wondered where she was. She didn't go out and steal herself anymore – it was too dangerous for somebody who was obviously her age – and while she had to go out to buy things and she went to the baths once a week that could not take up too much of her day. It wasn't really his business what she did during the day, but he was surprised that he really had very little idea what it was. On the rare occasions that he returned to their home during the day, she normally wasn't there.

Perfidy had been a central feature of his life for almost as long as he could remember. How long was that? Perfidy made it three years, since she was twelve and he was – well, if he was ten now and that seemed to be the consensus, since he was seven. He found it hard to remember how they had met. He could remember her leading him through a street, holding his hand. It had been dark, and he had been scared. There had been a man with them – a man clad all in black from head to toe. There was a strange glow in the sky, and they had all been coughing hard. Was that the first time they had met? It did not seem likely, but it was his earliest memory of her. His earliest memory of anything beyond a few jumbled things he could not make much sense of.

He had lived with her in their home since, and the others had come along later. Perfidy had always said that you helped where you could, so help would come to you. Perfidy took them in. But he had the feeling he had been with her from the day they moved in. He could remember sleeping between some crates on the docks. He could remember being very cold. He thought he could remember seeing their home as a completely bare space, and Perfidy crying in a corner. He'd never seen her cry again.

He hid the candy under his blanket – it was not so much truly hidden as simply out of sight. And went outside.

Who were the rooks? Jobet had talked about them, so they were a who. But the name meant nothing to him. Jobet had asked him the question about whether he was tied up with them and had seem surprised that he had not known what the question meant. So what did he know. There were people called the rooks and people could be tied up with them, and if you were it could be hard to get away. Harder than getting away from being a street thief – he had some difficulty with that concept.

Ongus was a city run by the Guilds and Council – they pledged their fealty and service to the King, but most things were under their control. And Guild Law was strict and unbending. The Guilds controlled the Trades and to become a member of a Trade you had to be apprenticed. And because a child could not sign their own indentures or pay a premium, if you didn't have a parent or other lawful guardian, you could not be apprenticed. So orphans – street urchins – had little choice in life, except to survive until they were old enough to become labourers, or soldiers, or barmaids, or... the other things that Perfidy didn't think he knew about, and to be honest, she was right except for knowing they existed. It was very hard to stop being a street thief, because you didn't have another choice. Even chimney sweeps had to be apprenticed. Even those who swept the streets. It wasn't fair, but he'd been told that it was because people wanted to make sure their own children had the best chances in life and didn't want competition from the children of the streets. That still didn't seem fair, but it did seem all too plausible.

Take Borgen for example – when Leo had done him and the others in the Three Shovels a service, Borgen had seen him fed for a week. But Borgen had three apprentices in his carpentry works, the oldest of whom was soon to complete, and Leo knew that Borgen was looking for a replacement who could bring along a purse of forty gold crowns from his parents – forty golden crowns to be a carpenter! Other trades had much higher premiums. Or take the lady tailor, that he'd met. She'd been kind to him after a fashion, but she had said she had five sons. Of course, she'd be more worried about them than about an orphan boy. She had to be. Unfair or not, that was her duty.

So getting away from the streets was hard. But getting away from the Rooks was harder.

He was crossing over into Southwall now. You just crossed a road, and there was nothing formal to tell you the district had changed. But the buildings were different – those in Southwall were newer, mostly, and larger, mostly, than those in Docksides. This was because the people were a little less poor, but also because Southwall had had to be rebuilt after fires. A big one twenty years ago, but a few smaller ones as well. Southwall had a reputation for being fireprone, but it did not seem to stop anybody living there. The streets were crowded.

Leo was right. His clothing fitted in better here. Most of the children he had seen were bare footed, even if they wore better clothing. There were less children than he expected to see. Quite a lot less actually. He wondered where they were. But that was not a major problem. Children didn't normally have purses worth stealing and that is what he was down here for. He found himself entering a market place, and he leaned against the side of a stone statue of a man on horseback and cast his eyes around getting a feel for the place. There was a pinchpoint at a laneway, and there were only a few places near it where a person could easily see it. And every few minutes somebody headed down it. He went and walked down it himself and found that it lead to a latrina very similar to the one he lived behind, except this one was heavily marked by burning and scorching. He used it, and then walked out to choose the best place by the pinchpoint.

And he stood and watched and waited. He could feel his breathing and hear his heartbeat. He was going to know. He knew he was going to score. That purse – the strings were loose, one good tug and it would be in his hand. People called those like him cutpurses, but Perfidy had never let him use a knife. One of her rules and one he did not plan to break. Bend it maybe at some stage, he was bending one of her rules a little bit right now, Southwall wasn't northern sides, but it also wasn't the safest place. A watch patrol had just entered the marketplace. He almost turned and left, and he knew Perfidy would have been furious that he hadn't. But what she did not know would not hurt him, and she wasn't likely to see him bend her rules. He knew he was going to score. He was so sure. He would not give it up.

The trick was to bump them so they didn't notice the pull. He took a step and did it. He turned and heard a significant cough – not from the man he'd bumped. He turned and looked where it came from. It came from a girl and for one wild moment, he thought it was Perfidy and he was in big trouble, but it was actually just a girl a little older than himself. She was looking at him with a look as significant as the cough, and with one hand she gestured down the laneway. He went down it and around the bend, and she was on to him.

In her hand, she had a knife – more a small dagger, and she was pointing it towards his stomach. “I'll take that purse, little boy.”

“If you want this purse, you'll have to stab me. I don't mind paying a toll, but I got it, fair and square. I looked and I didn't see anybody marking the man, or I would have held off, but I didn't see you and fair's fair.” This did not happen often, but it did happen, and there was an etiquette about it. There had to be or things got bad for everyone.

She smiled thinly. “You're not meant to see me. But fair enough, I didn't see you either until you bumped him. Or I didn't notice you anyways. And I don't want to stab you, but I've somebody I have to hand off too, so I'll take a toll.”

Leo opened the purse and pulled out what felt like about a third of the coins inside by feel. “This do.”

“Yes. What's your name?”

“Leo.” The etiquette required that as well.

“Charity.”

“Is this your patch? I don't want to poach if you've really marked it out.”

“No, it's a public way, like most of Southwall.”

“What isn't?”

“You new?”

“Only to Southwall.”

“The area between St Lucart's Church, and the city wall, and bounded by the gate road. Don't steal there, or you'll hope the guards take you.”

“Why?”

“Can't say. Sorry, but it you don't know, then you're not meant to know.”

“Fair enough.”

“Go well.”

“You too.”

She turned and walked up the lane back towards the market. Leo gave her a count of ten and began to walk that way again. And then he heard the whistles. Two sharp blasts. He could see Charity look sharply right, and then begin to run. Five seconds later, he saw a watch man run past the lanes entrance and then another. There was a cry of 'Stop Thief!'.

They were chasing her not him. He had to stay calm and not look guilty. He realised he still had the man's purse on him. Charity didn't have it. That was good. Coins weren't proof- a purse was. He turned around and walked back down to the public latrina. He pulled the coins out and dropped the purse down the shaft into the sewer below. And then he left and went back into the market.

There was no sign of Charity or any watch men and he hoped she'd got away.

But a few moments after he left the square, he realised that she hadn't. Just up the road three watch men had hold of her. She was fighting, but there wasn't anything one small girl could do against three large men. They weren't hurting her, but they weren't letting her go either. He stood there helpless. He wanted to help her. Desperately. But there wasn't anything one small boy and one small girl together could do either. He looked at her. There was no way she could pass for under seven. No way at all.

He looked down and his sharp eyes saw something shining by a wall. It was the dagger, Charity had been carrying, still in its scabbard with a long strap attached. The shining came from a cheap stone in the hilt At least she had got rid of that. A thief with a weapon was in serious trouble. She must have managed to drop it as they ran past. The guards would backtrack now they had her. There was something he could do. It was dangerous. They were only twenty yards away. But she looked towards him and it was as if Perfidy was looking at him somehow. You helped where you could, so help would come to you. He quickly picked up the dagger, and held it up so she could see – the guard were fully intent on holding her, and weren't looking back.

He headed for the river and was about to toss the dagger in. But... having a knife would be useful. He wouldn't carry it when he was working, but it would be useful in their home. He hoped Charity would manage to get herself out of the trouble she was in. Had he caused it? He wasn't sure. He hoped not.

He grabbed some drift wood from the side of the river. There was quite a lot of it. Once he had a good armful, he headed home. In terms of the coins and the wood – and the candy – it had been a good day. For him at least.


	6. Chapter 6

He opened the door and went inside. He put the wood in the growing pile, and considered what to do with the dagger. Should he hide it where Perfidy would not find it? That would be difficult unless he took it to his hiding place at St Deniol's. And why should he hide it? He wasn't planning on carrying it with him. He'd taken it so they could use it in the house as a knife. And Perfidy had said that having a knife in the house for cutting bread and similar would be fine. He decided to leave it out where Perfidy would see it, so she couldn't think he'd tried to hide it and he would have time to explain to her that he was not planning on carrying a weapon.

Perfidy was normally back by the time they came back in, so he sat back and waited, wondering again where she might be. He was beginning to get bored by the time the door opened and she stepped in. She'd been to the baths. He could tell. Well, no mystery about that today. Her eyes fell on the dagger and she stopped dead in her tracks.

“Why is that out?”

Why is it out? That was an interesting question. Why is that there? Where did that come from? Those would have been questions that made more sense than why is that out? Perfidy was now staring at Leo, with her lips thin, and her eyes sharp and angry. The only time she ever looked like this was when one of them had done something really stupid or broken one of the important rules. Leo found himself almost stammering an answer. An angry Perfidy needed answers quickly.

“I found it.”

“You shouldn't have been looking where you could find that. How dare you? I think with all I do for all of you, I am entitled to a little bit of privacy, Leo. I don't ask much, but I did ask that you never went into my box unless something happened to me.”

Perfidy's box was a small chest, she kept hidden in her own secret place under a pier near the docks. She had told Leo about it and shown him how to find it, because she said that somebody needed to know, in case she ever... well, in case something happened to her, so she could not look after the others anymore. She had made him promise – even making him swear on a small cross she took out of the box – that he would only ever open it if he knew that she was dead, or under sentence of death, or had been missing for more than five days. He had made the promise – not because she made him swear on a cross, but because she asked him to and said that it was so very important.

“I did not go into your box.”

“Oh? Then how do you have my dagger?”

“You've got a dagger?” That surprised him. She seemed very opposed to daggers. “I didn't. I found that in Southwall, near their market.”

“What were you doing in Southwall? No... wait. Wait here.” She looked around and grabbed his old tunic and hurried out the door.

He waited. Baltar arrived. Then Nodar. Then Roalf. Then Jarrow. Each of them asked where Perfidy was, and he told them that he wasn't sure, but she would be back soon, and they really needed to be on their best behaviour because she was in a bit of a mood.

She was back only a few minutes after Jarrow, and she lay down the tunic on the ground and unwrapped it. Inside was a dagger, scabbard, and strap, identical in all respects to the one Leo had found. It even had the same cheap stone.

“How exactly did you get this dagger, Leo?” asked Perfidy. Her voice was deadly calm.

“I went to Southwall to do some lifting,” he waited for Perfidy to give her view on this, but she didn't say a word, so he continued. “I was in the market square there, and I took a purse from a man and a girl saw me, and she pointed that dagger at me, and we discussed the situation and parted friends. But city guards chased her, and they caught her, but she'd thrown the dagger, and I picked it up to get rid of it, and decided to bring it home.”

“Did you get her name?”

“Charity.”

Perfidy closed her eyes. “The guard has her?”

“Yes. She'll be in Oldfort by now.”

Perfidy's lips moved, and Leo knew that she was praying. Then she spoke again.

“Did you give her your name?”

“Yes.”

“What name?”

“Why, Leo, of course. Should I have given her some other name?”

“I wish you had. Did she show any sign... did she...” Perfidy was obviously finding it hard to ask the question she wanted to ask. Finally. “Did she show any sign she recognised you?”

“No. Why would she recognise me? We'd never met before.”

Perfidy grimaced. “Leo, how much money did you get today? Is it enough for us all to eat at The Three Shovels?”

“Yes... if you want us to.”

“I do.”

Perfidy picked up both the daggers, and went over to a high shelf, and put one of them on it. Leo hadn't even noticed the shelf before. She stood there looking at the other dagger and its scabbard, and then turned to Leo.

“Take the others to the tavern and get them started. Wait for me. I might be ten or twenty minutes.”

Leo felt a bit frightened. Something was going on, he did not understand. He did not know why he had to ask, but the question came from somewhere. “You will be coming. You're not going anywhere...” it came out like the words of a little boy, and he hated the way he sounded. Perfidy bent down and looked into his eyes.

“I swear to you by Gatanedes and all the Saints, that I will be with you. Do not be afraid.”

And he wasn't. He went to his blanket for a moment, and then he turned to the others. “Come on you four. Perfidy's told us where to go. I'm in charge.”

They walked out. He was older than the others, and they had come to live with Perfidy after he had. Perfidy had a need to look after people that Leo found perplexing, but maybe that was because she was a girl and he was a boy. Jarrow was the youngest, and was probably barely five. Baltar was probably six. Nodar and Roalf were apparently twins, but they didn't look the same – Perfidy had told him that twins didn't always, because Leo had thought that was what being a twin meant. They were both probably eight and Roalf was bigger than him in some ways, although he was taller. If Roalf had wanted to, he could have easily beaten Leo up, but he was gentle. Too gentle, Perfidy had said once – but then he wasn't big enough to beat her up.

At the Three Shovels, Leo got the four of them bread and put them at a corner table. It was early still, and he ordered scumgullion for when it was ready. He went and sat down at another table in the opposite corner, and waited for Perfidy. She came in after about a quarter of an hour, and the last little bit of fear he hadn't noticed left him. She came and sat down right next to him.

“We need to talk, I think.” she said. “There's a few things you should know.”

“All right. Are you going to tell me about the rooks?”

Perfidy stared. “What do you already know?”

“Not a lot. I've heard of the rooks and you were tied up with them. That's it, really.”

Perfidy sighed. “I really wish I didn't have to tell you. But if Charity... when Charity gets out, there could just possibly be a problem. I wish you hadn't gone to Southwall, and I wish she hadn't seen you.”

“Who is she?”

Perfidy looked at him. “I want you to... guess.” He wasn't sure that guess is she had intended to say.

He thought for a moment. “When I first saw her, I thought – just for a moment – that she was you. Not sure why. Your hair is different. But a lot of you is the same. And she had a dagger just like your dagger, like they are from a matching set. And you said a prayer for her, and you are worried about her now.” Suddenly he was sure. “You're sisters.”

“Yes.”

“I didn't know you had a sister.”

“I've got four, actually. And two brothers. Amity, Charity, Hope, and Faith. And Eadgar and Aelfric. Had four and two anyway. Hopefully I still do.”

“You don't know for sure.”

“I know two of them are still alive, and I've no reason to think the others aren't. But... I had to leave, and I had to make those I left behind believe that I am dead. So I can't really stay in touch.”

“Why did you have to do this?”

“You asked about the rooks. You've heard of the Guild of Thieves.”

“Stuff and nonsense.” That is what everybody said when somebody mentioned the Guild of Thieves. Except the people who believed in them and said things about them really running the city.

“Yes... and no. It's not like people think, but the rooks are something close to that. I can't tell you too much. It's too dangerous for you to know. But you're getting older and if I can't stop you stealing in Southwall and the northern sides by belting you until you stop, then I have to tell you a little bit. The rooks – the Crooked Rooks, they call themselves – are thieves and cut throats. And they don't mind children stealing – normally – who aren't their members, nor family of their members, but they won't tolerate anybody else. Or anyone who gets too good. I was a Rook. Because my family were... are... you would have been too, one day... except... look, Leo, I can't tell you everything. I didn't want to do it anymore. The Rooks don't steal because they have to – well, not just because they have to. And I realised... I didn't want to do it anymore. So I left. I had some help, but I left the way I had to leave. Do you have any questions for me?”

Leo thought. “Why were you worried about Charity recognising me?”

“Because – I took you with me when I left. She might have remembered you, you haven't changed that much, except for getting a little taller. And you never had hair like that. It might have been a good thing I haven't got around to cutting it.”

“You took me with you? I was a Rook?”

“No. Not even the Rooks make babies into Rooks. You don't have to swear your first oath until you're five and only then if you're ridiculously talented. You were still more than a year away from that.”

“Why me?”

“Because I couldn't take anybody else. I couldn't take my sisters, or I would have taken them. Maybe I should have tried anyway – but I was only eleven...”

Leo had a sudden thought. Perfidy was fifteen now – if she was eleven then... four years ago. And he had been a more than a year away from being five, then...

“How old am I, Perfidy. If you knew me when I was a baby, you must know.”

She grimaced. “Yes... you're about seven and a half.”

“I thought I was ten!” Seven and a half – that means he really had been six when he had been arrested last year. He had thought he had lied his way out of custody... well, he had, hadn't he. Because he had believed he was lying, so he was actually lying. Even if it turned out he was telling the truth.

“You were the cleverest little thing I've ever seen. You still are. Father... oh, I may as well, tell you, Father Rosas who helped us get away, told me I should pretend you were older than you were, and change your name, and as much as I could about you. I'd stolen you, you see...”

“You changed my name? What was my name?”

Their scumgullion was brought over and they didn't speak while the bowls were put down. And then Perfidy did speak.

“Leo, I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“I don't want you to know your name. I didn't want you to know how old you are, but I kind of let you work that out, you clever little beast.”

“Why not?”

“There's reasons. Please just trust me.”

“All right... you said you stole me. Do I have parents?”

Perfidy looked at him. “No. Your parents are well and truly dead.”

Leo was glad of that. The idea that he might have had parents and Perfidy had taken him from them was the worst idea he could imagine right now.

Perfidy was eating her scumgullion with gusto. Leo thought of another question. “You seemed to think that Charity would get away.”

“One thing the Rooks are good at, is getting their members out of Oldfort. It's not guaranteed, but she'll have a good chance.”

Leo looked across the tavern to where the others were eating. “Are there are secrets about them, I need to know about.”

“Well... I think Jarrow is the rightful Heir to the throne of Cornumbria.”

“You're joking. Please tell me you're joking.”

“Yes.” She saw the look on Leo's face. “Definitely. No... they are street urchins. Orphans. Nothing more.” She stared at him. “Just like us.”

They had all finished their scumgullion. As they walked back home, Leo handed out a piece of the Minji candy to each of the others. You had to share things with your family after all. Perfidy made them wait outside while she went in for a moment. Then she opened the door again, and let them in.

Leo took a long time to go to sleep that night. He lay there waiting for Perfidy to secretly kiss him good night, but she didn't. He looked over to where she was sitting by the door. He could only see her shadow, and it didn't move for many, many minutes. Eventually she stood up and opened the door. She said in a low voice.

“I think you're still awake, Leo. If you are, stay put. I need you with the others. I'll be back. There's some things I need to do.”

She left, and he had fallen asleep before she came back. He knew this because when he woke up, it was morning and she was back. She handed out bread and told the others where she wanted them to go that day, ending by saying “Leo, you stay with me. There's things we need to do.”

They waited until the others had left, and Perfidy looked at Leo. “Now – I assume I'm right in saying you haven't had anything like a proper wash since the day you brought those new clothes? Am I?”

“Yes. I was getting ready for winter. It's getting cold out there.”

“Then we are going to go to the proper bathhouse today, and you going to have a proper bath. And I mean that, Leo. I need you to wash very carefully. And I really need you to wash your hair. Can you do that? If I say I'm your sister, they'd let us take a room together, but I really don't want to either have a bath with you or bath you myself, any more than I think you want that.”

“I can do it.”

“With soap. Properly.”

“All right. But isn't it expensive?”

“It's worth it in the circumstances. I've got a bit more money stored away than you know about, Leo. I've just never touched it before. It's been waiting for the right reasons to spend some of it.”

She lead him across the city, until they were nearly at Cushion Street. He knew that she used a bathhouse once a week – as she had done yesterday but that was near Cutter's Lane. He had never been inside but he passed it often enough and while it was one of the more impressive buildings in Docksides, it was nothing like the shining stone building they now entered. Perfidy walked over to the counter and spoke to the girl behind it at some length while Leo looked at the paintings on the walls. Paintings of sea monsters and mermaids and great whales. When he turned around, there was no sign of Perfidy and the girl from behind the counter was standing there with a towel. “Come with me, boy.” She lead him down a hallway with numbered doors on either side. I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII – they went right down to the far end. He remembered what Jobet had said about letters being numbers sometimes. This all made sense here. V was five and X was ten, so these were numbers one to twelve. The girl opened door twelve and gestured to him to go inside. He did, and she followed him in.

The room had a bench on one side and a bath sunk into the ground on the other. Steam was rising from the water. The girl gestured to a strange device on a shelf by the door.

“Do you know what this is?”

He shook his head. He'd never seen anything like it.

“It's an hour glass. The room is yours for an hour. You need to be finished before the sand runs out. Your sister said to tell you she'd be back in three quarters of an hour and you had better be clean otherwise you wouldn't enjoy what she'd do to you for the last quarter hour.”

He almost told her that Perfidy wasn't his sister, but it wasn't really relevant and besides Perfidy had said they might need to pretend she was. Maybe these places had rules about that. That would make some sense. The Church would probably get upset with people who weren't close family being in the same bathrooms. Even down at the river baths, they worried about that and this was a lot more than a river bath. The girl left closing the door.

He stripped off and climbed into the water. It really was hot. Hot enough to be uncomfortable at first, but then it suddenly became very pleasant. He lay there for a while just enjoying being warm. But when he looked up, the sand seemed to be flowing quite quickly, so he began to wash himself. He washed himself as thoroughly as he could work out how to do. He washed his hair four times. By the time he was finished, it didn't feel like hair at all anymore. It was so smooth and slippery.

He had dried himself and pulled on his braies and hose, just as Perfidy opened the door. She came in and took him by the shoulders and turned him around looking at him critically. She tousled his hair.

“Good.”

When they left, Perfidy began walking, not towards home, but in the other direction. She was walking quickly, and Leo had to almost run to keep up.

“Where are we going?”

“The Cathedral.”

“Why?”

“We're being followed, Leo. We have been since we left home. I wasn't expecting anything to happen this quickly. Don't worry. I have a plan.”

“I haven't noticed anybody.”

“That is because they are very, very good. Better than I would have expected.”

They arrived at the Cathedral. Leo had never been inside before. You could see it from most places in the city, but that did not really give you a sense of how huge it was until you got up close, and even that gave you an impression that was overwhelmed by going inside. It was vast. Perfidy obviously knew her way around and took him down a curving hallway with archways in one wall. Each contained a chapel, as large as the Church she had made him go to on Haligdae. All decorated with paintings and murals and shining gold and blue and red paint, and stained glass windows. And all along the inside wall were mirrors, reflecting it all – it would be virtually impossible for anybody to follow somebody down this hallway without being seen.

And the person who was following them realised it, because Leo only got to see him for a moment, briefly, before the man fell back. Perfidy was right. They were being followed.

Halfway around the curve, Perfidy suddenly grabbed him by the hand and stepped sideways into one of the chapels. She darted across it, to a door at the back wall, that she obviously knew about. She dropped down to her knees in front of it and for a moment, he thought she was praying, but then he realised she was picking the lock of the door. He hadn't known she could do that. The door opened and they stepped outside into a churchyard – it seem a rather small churchyard for such a large church. Pefidy turned around and used her picks to lock the door again. Then she took off at speed again, and Leo now did have to run to keep up.

They were heading towards the river, though far from the part of the river they called home. They were near the northern gate of the city, near Oldfort, the prison, in fact. They entered an inn – the sign was literally a gallows with a wooden body hanging from it – and Perfidy lead him straight up a staircase next to the bar, up to the first floor. She took a key from around her neck and opened a door up there, and they went into a room of the inn. It had two beds and not much else. There was a sack on the bed.

Perfidy closed the door. She looked at Leo and said one word. “Strip.”

He did as she commanded. Pulled off his tunic and his hose and stood there in his braies. She looked at him and repeated “Strip,” so he took them off as well. She handed him another pair, which seemed rather silly but he pulled them on, and then she handed him a dress.

A dress. A girl's dress.

“Perfidy...”

“Put it on, or I will put it on you.” Her voice did not allow any disagreement, and so he pulled it on over his head. It had laces on it, that he was not quite sure how to handle, but she turned him round and dealt with those quite quickly. Then she handed him a pair of boots, and he had to work out how to put them on. It was harder than he would have thought. Once this was done. While he did this, Perfidy was standing at the window looking at the street outside. Then she pulled the shutters shut, so they were standing there nearly in darkness.

“Leo,” she said in the same commanding voice, “I want you to stand in the corner, facing the corner, with your eyes closed until I tell you you can turn around.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

He did it. He heard sounds behind him and he realised she was changing her own clothes. It seemed a little bit unfair that she was insisting he stand in a corner with his eyes closed, when she had absolutely no respect for his privacy, but he decided complaining about unfairness would be a very poor idea.

“You can turn around.”

When he turned around, the shutters were open again and Perfidy was there in yellow hose and a dark green tunic. She also had boots on, and she was looking into the small mirror on the wall as she cut her hair with a pair of sharp scissors. Sitting on the bed was a short sword in a scabbard. And he went over to look at it. He didn't want to see the look on her face. She looked like she was about to cry.

When she had finished, she turned to him, and told him to sit on the bed. She sat down next to him and forced a comb through his hair over and over again for a few minutes. And then she took his hair, and he realised she was braiding it.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“I am not a girl!”

“You're wearing an awfully pretty dress for a boy, Leo... no... um.... Clemency, I think. That's a good name, for you.”

“I am not a girl!”

“No, you're right, you're not. But you're not stupid either. Until I can sort things out with the Rooks you can't afford to be what you normally are. Nor can I. Count yourself lucky that I can probably square things for you if I go and talk to them. I'm not sure I can for myself.”

“Is it the Rooks following us?”

“I assume so. Charity must have recognised you. That doesn't really surprise me. I just didn't expect things to move so fast. They must have got her out of Oldfort almost straightaway.”

“Why would they follow us?”

“Because I was one of them. And you vanishing the same night I did. It's not hard to work things out.”

“What will happen if they catch you?”

“That depends.”

“On what.”

“On whether they follow the rules or not. Leo, I left the Rooks in a way that you're supposed to be allowed to leave. The only way you are allowed to leave, short of dying. By the rules I'm allowed to leave. Trouble is – we're talking about people who break rules all the time. And the fact they are coming after us, and following us, makes me think there might be a problem.”

“So what do you do?”

“I go and see them. I talk to them.”

“Isn't that dangerous?”

“Yes. And that's why I've got you dressed like this. Because if I don't come back, you're going to have to hide where nobody can find you.”

“Why are you in disguise?”

“To give everybody more options.”

“I don't understand.”

Perfidy stood up – and he realised she had finished braiding his hair. Nothing elaborate, but it hadn't taken long. “A lot of what goes on in life is appearances, Clemency. If I walk back into seeing the rooks as... well, as myself, I can't continue to pretend I'm dead – and nor can they, if it's important to them. I go in as somebody different, it might be a lot easier for me to walk out.

“They could kill you?”

“They could, but I don't think they will.”

“Don't go.”

“They could kill me anytime. I'd rather go now. While you were in the bath, I saw a Priest.”

“What should I do?”

“Wait for me, here.”

“What if you don't come back?”

She handed him a purse. “This is enough money for you to... go anywhere. It's my nest egg. It's what I earned when I was a rook and kept to buy a new life.”

“Why haven't you used it?”

“Because it's tainted. When I was a rook, I did not steal because I had to. I stole because I was a thief. Anyway – it's yours, if you need it. If I'm not back by tomorrow. We have this room until then.”

“What about the others?”

“I've made arrangements. Trust me.”

“Always.”

Perfidy smiled. “I'll be back. I promise I will be back unless it just can't be done.”

Leo sat there on the bed in the inn for hours. Until when two hours after sunset the door opened.


	7. Chapter 7

It was dark, both inside and outside the room and all he could see was the shadow of a man wearing a sword stepping into the room. For a moment, he panicked but then he heard Perfidy's voice whisper - “Leo?”, and remembered that he should not be expecting her to look the way she normally looked. A man with a sword – a young man with a sword, anyway, was what he should expect to see. As she closed the door, she whispered again, “Leo, are you awake?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

She sat down on the edge of the bed he was lying in.

“I've spoken to... well, you don't need to know exactly who I have spoken to, but they're fairly high up in the Rooks. And it isn't the Rooks following us. Charity is still in Oldfort – she's due to go before the Court in a few days. They've fixed it, so she'll be released – the worst she will get is a whipping and likely not even that – but they haven't had any contact with her. They didn't know I was alive. I couldn't ask about you, but even if Charity did recognise you, she hasn't had the chance to tell anybody yet. It's very important that she doesn't. For your sake, and mine.”

“Why?”

She sat there in silence. Then reached across his body to take his left hand and pulled him upright in his bed. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug. She had never done that before.

He knew Perfidy cared for him. He even thought she loved him. And he knew he loved her. But while she had tended to his sicknesses and wounds when needed, she had never once embraced him. She kissed him in the night, but never this. She released him and took his hand again. She spoke in a low voice.

“You're left handed.”

“I know.” He had noticed it was unusual, but it seemed an odd thing to bring up right now.

“Did you know,” asked Perfidy. “That all witches are left handed?”

“No. That doesn't mean all left handed people are witches, does it?”

“No, thank God, it doesn't. But it is enough that the fact that somebody is left handed makes other people suspicious of them. There's a reason why the Bacchile word sinister means left. Being left handed is enough to make people suspicious. And especially so, if they are also clever. And by the time you were three, it was beginning to be obvious to people that you were left handed and clever.

“I told you I stole you when I left. I didn't tell you why... I took you because you were in danger. Special danger. If... certain people in charge of the Rooks had realised you could be a witch, then you would never have had any chance of leaving. I left my sisters behind for a couple of reasons. First of all, most simply, I did not know how to get them out, but I didn't even try that hard to find a way, because they'd made their choices to take the oaths, and they also have the choice of leaving the way I did, of taking the one way out. And I hope one day they will. But you would never have been given the choice, once they realised they had somebody with your potential. You wouldn't have been given the choice of taking the oaths. You wouldn't have been given the chance of ever leaving. They'd have taken you and tried to turn you into their witch. And I could not let that happen.”

Leo spoke. “You stole me because you didn't want me to be a witch?” What she said made some sort of sense, but on the other hand, it did seem rather far fetched. He knew being left handed was uncommon, but – well, he'd worked that out by looking at people and while there were something like ten right handed people for every left handed one he'd seen, most of them showed no signs of being at all like a witch. The only time he'd ever seen what he was sure was magic was when he'd played with the dice... oh... he pulled his hand away from Perfidy, who was answering his question.

“Of course, I don't want you to be a witch. I want you to be in the light of the faith, I want you to be a good and decent man some day. And I want you to go to heaven, many many years from now. But more than that, I don't want you to be a Rook. I don't know if they could have made you a witch, but I know they could have forced you to be a thief forever. Whether you wanted to or not. Whether you decided to or not.”

“You've made me be a thief.”

“I've made you do what you've had to do to stay alive. I didn't like it. I hated it. I hate it now. And I hate what I am going to have to ask you to do tomorrow. But we do what we have to do.” she fell silent. “Go to sleep, Leo. We'll talk more in the morning.”

He wanted to ask what she was going to ask him to do, but knew she would not tell him right now. He heard her walk over to the other bed. He watched her take off her sword belt and then sit on the bed, taking off her boots.

“Perfidy...” he said.

“Yes?”

“I couldn't work out how to take off my boots.”

“Are you telling me you are in bed, with boots on.”

“Yes.”

“Get up for a moment.”

She bent down and struggled at his feet for a few minutes. He was gratified to realise that it was actually difficult to get them off. He had felt a bit foolish. Finally, they were off, and Perfidy stood up again.

“In the morning, we'll talk some more and I'll also teach you the right way to tie a bootlace!”

He slipped back into bed, and lay there. Perfidy was lying on the other bed. He was suddenly so tired that he fell asleep before she came over to kiss him.

In the morning when he awoke, he realised that Perfidy wasn't there again. He looked under the bed and found the chamberpot and used it and was glad she wasn't. It was awkward working out how to do it in a dress. Why did girls wear these things?

He looked over at his boots and pulled them on. They went on more easily than they had before. Tying a bootlace... while he had never worn boots before, he'd seen plenty of people wearing them, and he focused his memory carefully on what the knots had looked like. He realised that it was a bow – the type of bow that foolish people used to tie purses to belts as well – if you knew where to pull it came loose quite easily. Given the difficulties of last night, it made sense you'd tie a bootlace like that.

When he finished, he wondered where Perfidy had gone. He had thought she had probably gone off to find somewhere where she didn't have to use a chamberbot and risk Leo seeing her doing so – she worried about such things – but she had been gone too long for that, at least under normal circumstances. He was beginning to get worried. He realised she had left the sword behind as well. He was very relieved when the door opened and she came in again.

“Where have you been?”

“To the Cathedral.”

“Why?”

“To see a Priest again.”

Even for Perfidy, seeing Priests this often was unusual. “Why?”

“We'll talk about that after breakfast.”

She led him downstairs and into a room with tables and chairs. They went over to a corner table, and sat down. A girl came over.

“Two of your famous breakfasts.”

The girl walked away.

“Why are they famous?” asked Leo.

“Do you know what this place is called?”

“No.”

“You saw the sign.”

“I can't read.” But part of the sign had been a gallows with a wooden body hanging from it, and they were right near Oldfort. “Is this The Hanging Man?”

“Yes.”

It was famous. When people were taken off for execution, the cart stopped outside so they could have a breakfast of eggs and bacon as a final meal. A tradition. He hadn't known just anybody could come inside and get the meal without the later inconveniences though.

Perfidy was staring at him as plates of eggs and bacon were brought over. “Dig in. I hope it's the only time you ever have breakfast here.”

He had never eaten so well in his life. He wasn't sure when he ever would again. He wasn't sure why they were now. However much money she had hidden away, Perfidy was not the type to waste it.

Perfidy looked at him, and he realised he had never seen her look so sad and solemn. “Leo... I am so, so sorry.”

“What for? Is this the thing you have to ask me to do?”

“No... I mean, Yes. Yes, it is. I have to ask you to let me go. To let me leave you.”

“Why? What?”

“I have been thinking all night. Leo, if the Rooks find out you're alive and where they can find you, they'll take you. You're still young enough that they can try what they wanted to try. To turn you into a witch. To get you trained. I won't let that happen. I won't let you them turn you into a witch. And I won't let them turn you into a Rook. And I am so worried that Charity recognised you. And I need to stop her from telling.”

“But why does that mean you have to leave me?”

“Because the only way I can stop her is to talk to her before she gets out of Oldfort. And that means I have to go into Oldfort. And that means I need to get myself arrested.”

“No! Perfidy, you can't do that. I won't let you.”

“How would you stop me?”

“You can't. They might hang you.”

Perfidy spoke quietly. “They almost certainly will hang me. I used up all my chances while I was a Rook. I've already been under sentence of death once – in that case, they managed to get me freed at the last moment, by arranging a fake apprenticeship for me and a suitable sob story, but it won't work again. That's one reason – only a tiny part of the reason, but it is part of it – why I left.”

“You can't do this.”

“If she gets out and she knows and she talks, the Rooks will come after us, and they might kill me, but they'd definitely take you. This is the best chance you have – and that's enough for me. I won't let them turn you into something wicked. I won't.”

“I already am.” Leo spoke. He was somehow sure what he needed to say. “I'm a witch, Perfidy. I can already do things.”

“What? Don't lie to me. Don't you dare say that?”

“I have to. I won't let you die to stop me becoming something I already am. I'm a witch and I can prove it.”

“How?”

“Come with me.”

He lead Perfidy through the streets towards St Deniol's. Walking in boots was a little harder than walking in bare feet and walking in a dress was harder still. He felt like they were being followed again, and he tried to see if he could see the man he'd seen the day before again, but he couldn't. Once they got into the Churchyard, he lay down and pulled the dice from its hiding place. It was once again a six sided cube.

He sat down in the dirt – his new dress was now covered on the front and seat with churchyard dirt, and looked at Perfidy. “I am going to roll a one. And then a two. And then a three... and all the way up to six in order.” He knew the magic dice would respond. And he hoped that would be enough to make Perfidy believe he was a witch.

She watched as he did exactly what he had promised. Her mouth hung open for a moment. Then she held out her hand.

“Give me the dice.”

Oh... for some reason, this had not occurred to him. If she tested the dice herself, she would realise that it was the dice that was magical not him. He wished he still had the other dice. He could have palmed it and tried to switch it. But he did not have that option.

Instead he did the only thing he could think of at the moment. He turned and threw the dice towards the street. And watched as a young man who had just walked through the churchyard gate threw out a hand and caught it in a very fluid motion. He was tall with dark hair. He was wearing black hose and a black tunic, and looked remarkably sinister. And he had caught the dice in his left hand – although the sword he wore hung in the right place for a right handed man to draw it.

He looked familiar – and Leo looked at Perfidy. He looked a lot like Perfidy! An awful lot like Perfidy when she was dressed as a boy herself. Leo looked at Perfidy.

“Is this Eadgar or Aelfric?” she had told him her brothers names.

The young man spoke – young man or boy, he was right on the edge of either - “I'm Eadgar, and who are you.”

Perfidy spoke. “This is Clemency.”

“That explains a lot. Interesting name... and a funny one for a.... Perhaps we'd better go inside the Church. Rather than discuss this here.”

“Are you sure you want to go into a Church, Eadgar?”

“It's not like I'm talking communion, is it?”

He walked over to the side door, and opened it – it was not locked, and they went inside. Eadgar walked around the Church making sure nobody else was there and then he looked at the dice.

“Give that to me,” said Perfidy and Eadgar handed it to her. She said “Six” and rolled it. It came up four. “Three.” It came up one. “Two.” It came up two. Eadgar spoke in a dry voice. “I know the Lord does not approve of gambling, Verity, but are you sure you understand how dice work?

“I'm Perfidy, now, as I told you last night. And it rolled exactly what Clemency told it to.”

“Clemency? Can we drop the charade. His name is...”

Perfidy snapped “His name is Leo, and whatever we call him, the dice does whatever he wants.”

Eadgar put his hand out. “Give it to me.” He looked at it closely, then rolled it on a pew saying “Four.” It came up four. “One.” It came up one. “Like that, you mean, Verity?”

She looked at her feet and said in a defeated tone. “Yes.” Then she looked up at Eadgar and said defiantly. “This doesn't change a thing. And please don't call me Verity. I hate that name now.”

“And you chose the name, Perfidy... You're odd. You always were. As to whether it changes anything.... no, it doesn't. I'll still see that Clemency... well, gets, clemency.”

“What do you mean? I'm not the one who needs clemency! Perfidy does!” asked Leo.

“Don't tell him!” said Verity. Leo turned to stare at her. Eadgar looked at both of them and spoke.

“Leo... what is my sister planning?”

“Leo, don't tell him!”

Eadgar turned to her. “Perfidy, as you prefer – what are you up to? You're not thinking of going ahead with that godawful plan you tried to feed me last night. I thought I'd talked you out of that.”

Perfidy's tone was anguished “I can't ask Leo to risk himself for me!”

Leo now spoke angrily. “Try and stop me. Eadgar, what do I need to do?”

“I forbid it!” said Perfidy.

“Let's calm down,” said Eadgar. “All of us. Getting heated won't help. Perfidy, I will not allow you to put your head in a noose. The plan we came up with last night is the sensible plan. It should work. You know that.”

“It's too dangerous.”

“If you get yourself hanged, Perfidy... I will not be able to stop Leo being brought in. I can't protect him in the way you can. If you die – he's either with us, or he's dead. And besides, at your age – there's hardly any guarantee your plan would work.”

“You'd do that?”

“No I wouldn't do that, but I can't stop it, unless we go ahead with the plan.”

“What is the plan?” asked Leo.

Eadgar looked at Perfidy. “If you don't tell him, I will.”

Perfidy pursed her lips. “If I tell him, you won't embellish what I tell him?”

“No. I think I understand what you are thinking. I'm not sure if I agree, but we can discuss that later.”

Perfidy turned to Leo. “Right... the plan is for you to get yourself arrested. You'll be placed in the cells at Oldfort with the other girls – they are careful to keep young girls separate. You'll be able to find Charity. Explain to her that Eadgar doesn't want her telling anybody anything until she's had a chance to talk to him. You can tell her that they've arranged for her to be released at the trial. And the same will be arranged for you. You'll go to court in a day or so, and you'll both be released.”

“All right. Why don't you want me to do that? It doesn't sound too bad.”

“Plans don't always work as well in practice as they do when we're talking about them. There's all sorts of things that can go wrong.”

“If it means you don't get hanged, I am going to risk it. But...”

“Yes?”

“You told me last night that Charity could get whipped even if she's released. Does that mean I could be?”

Eadgar spoke. “It's not impossible, but it is unlikely. The Magistrates play by the rules, but occasionally you get one that decides he doesn't want a thief getting off scot-free and we have to play by their rules as well.”

Perfidy looked at him “Leo, I really don't think this is a good idea.”

Eadgar interrupted. “It's the best idea we could come up with last night. It's still the best idea. And we have to do it fast. We need to get Clemency inside before there's any risk that Charity goes to court. There's an outside chance we are already too late.”

“I still don't like it.”

Eadgar reached out and gripped her arm. “Verity – yes, I know you hate the name – Verity, I will do whatever it takes to stop you putting your head in a noose. If I have to, I will take Leo now, and make any sacrifice you make pointless. Don't make me do that.” He looked at her. “Don't make me lose you again.”

Perfidy sighed and nodded.

“Right. Eadgar looked at Leo. “Your name is Clemency Willson. You're eight years old, and the granddaughter of Eda Willson, a cobbler in Stone Lane. You were stealing because some older children made you do it. You don't know their names. Got that?”

“Yes.”

“You're best bet is to nick something out of one of the shops in Cushion Street. No need to be subtle. Run in, grab something and run out. When you're caught, act scared – cry if you can. When you're in Oldfort, make sure nobody works out you're not a girl. Not hard if you're not stupid and you've never been stupid. Find Charity, tell her this – and this exactly “Eadgar says you are to tell nobody nuffin until you see him. The fix is in. You will see him.” That's it. Then when they take you before the beak, plead guilty and ask for mercy. They'll release you to your grandfather – Eda owes me a big favour – and you'll be out. Try not to eat too much, and drink as little as you can – the food and water in Oldfort has a way of trying to get through you as fast as possible. Are you carrying a weapon?”

“No.”

“Anything else you shouldn't be?”

“No.”

“Then you'd best get going.”

“The dice. How did you make the dice do what you wanted, and why couldn't Perfidy?”

“I've got talent and I've had training.”

“Are you a witch?”

“Some would say so.”

Leo looked at Perfidy. “He's your brother and he's a witch. Do you hate him?”

Perfidy shook her head “I could never hate my brother.”

“If I am a witch, could you hate me?”

“Nothing could make me hate you, Leo. Nothing on Legend.”

Eadgar spoke. “You're not a witch, Leo. Not yet. You've got talent and potential. We can discuss that later.” He looked at Perfidy. “We will discuss it later.”

“It'll be his choice.” said Perfidy.

Eadgar spoke “I'll do everything in my power to make sure it is. Now get out there, Clemency. Get out there and get caught.”


	8. Chapter 8

Leo – or was he Clemency now or was she Clemency now, he decided he had best just stick with Leo, at least in his own mind and Leo was definitely a boy whatever he was wearing – left the Church and walked as fast as he could manage in boots and a dress towards Cushion Street. When he arrived there, it was still before many of the shops had opened, and he walked up and down the street trying to work out what a cobbler's granddaughter might steal from a shop. It was very unlikely to be shoes, for example – the way the boots were making his feet feel he was sure nobody would ever steal shoes, and she wouldn't have the need to steal food or bread – although the cakes at the bakery would have been tempting if he hadn't had the biggest breakfast in his life not that long ago. There. That was it. It was just opening. A jewelery shop. He walked inside.

Most of what was inside was hidden behind glass panels – the glass alone in this place, in this entire street, represented more wealth than he could easily imagine – but on the counter top were some simple trinkets. Not incredibly valuable, but some of them were quite pretty. And they seemed very much the type of thing a girl who didn't need to steal to live might steal. He waited until the shopkeeper turned away. Ah. The shopkeeper was obviously thinking the same thing – that his wares would be attractive if this girl had sticky fingers. He was quite good – most people would not have known he was still looking out of the corner of his eye. Leo did, and took advantage. He swiftly grabbed at a golden coloured brooch with a red coloured stone in it, and turned to leave.

“Young Miss, I think...” and Leo began to run. He went out the door and into Cushion Street, running for the centre of the street and then running down it. It was instinct for a person who was trying to get away to go for what they thought was the clearest path, which was normally the middle of the street, but it was actually a bad idea when you were small – you were best to try and weave and dodge and rely on the fact that the people chasing you were bigger. But Leo wanted to get caught this time. And the shopkeeper wasn't that fast, and hadn't made a call – Leo considered calling out 'Stop Thief' himself to try and start a hue and cry, but that might look suspicious.

Instead, as he passed a barrow selling fruit – these barrows had not been here on his last trip down Cushion Street, he wondered why – he swept his hand across the top and sent a neatly piled pyramid of apples bouncing onto the street. There was a cry of anguish from the boy on the fruit stand, and Leo felt rather sorry for him – until he realised that the boy was very fast, and while that meant he would be caught as he wanted to be, it was clear that the boy intended to do more than just catch the girl who'd caused him problems. He tried to run in earnest.

Leo felt his head snap back and his legs fly out from under him. The boy had grabbed his trailing braid and as Leo fell to earth, he once again wondered why girls took pains to look the way they did. None of it seemed to help. As he hit the ground, all the wind came out of him, and so he was unable to resist as the fruit boy hit him twice around the face before being pulled off by the jeweller.

“Steady on, you can't hit a girl like that.”

Maybe there were some advantages to it.

Leo was being hauled to his feet by a guard corporal now who looked at his face, and then at the fruit boy.

“What's going on?”

“She knocked over all my apples. I'd spent half an hour stacking those. My Master is going to slaughter me. Literally slaughter me!”

“And she stole a brooch from me, Corporal. Just before.”

“I assume you want her arrested?” asked the Corporal.

“Well... I want her punished...”

“How much is the brooch worth?”

“Two florins.”

“That's enough for her to hang.”

“Ah... well, I don't want that. Look, what else can happen.”

The Corporal looked at Leo. “Respectable clothes. I could hand her over to her parents and impress on them just how close she came to winding up in Oldfort, and rely on them delivering the necessary correctives.”

“That would be acceptable to me.”

“Not to me!” said the fruitboy. “She ruined my apples. I'm going to have to restack them all. If they've survived.”

The Corporal turned to the fruit boy. “You're apprenticed to Borric More?”

“Yes.”

“I'll have a word with him. And you've bloodied this girls nose and I'd say that's fair payment for a bunch of apples. Now – young Miss,” he turned his attention to Leo. “I'll have your name and then we'll go and find your father and tell him that if he doesn't get you under control, you'll wind up on the end of a rope.”

Leo didn't answer. “I said what's your name?”

Again, Leo didn't answer.

“Look, I don't mind arresting you. But if I do, you could hang. No matter what your parents do to you, it can't be as bad as that. Last chance. Name. Or I'll throw you into Oldfort.”

Leo deliberately shook his head.

“Right – you two,” said the Corporal to two other guards. “Take her to Oldfort. Charge is theft. Don't let her get away. She's obviously a hardened criminal.” He looked at Leo again. “Last chance.”

Leo didn't answer, and was lead away.

It would have actually been quite easy to get free. One of the guards was holding him by one arm, but a quick break would have been enough to get free. Whether he could outrun them or not, he wasn't sure, but they obviously didn't expect him to try and run.

He hoped the corporal would forget to talk to the Master Fruiterer. Leo's nose hurt, and he realised it was still bleeding quite heavily. Blood had dripped down to his dress. Covered in dirt from the graveyard, and now covered with blood as well... well, hopefully he would never be expected to wear anything like this again.

He had been in Oldfort once, a little over a year before and thrown into the holding cells. And now this happened again. He knew that in a fairly short period of time, he'd be taken before the Gaoler who would decide whether or not to release him – her. Must start thinking like a girl. He realised he hadn't cried. Well... Charity hadn't cried when she'd been arrested. It obviously wasn't compulsory girl behaviour. Truth be told, he had cried when he'd been arrested last year, and he thought that was part of the reason he'd been able to convince the Gaoler he was only six. Although as it turned out, he had only been six.

The cell door was opened and the guard who had brought him in handed him – her, you're a girl right now, be her – a rough towel and a bowl of water. “Wash your face. You're covered in blood.”

“Thank you.”

“I just don't want the Gaoler thinking I did it. I wonder if I could find you another dress.”

“Don't worry. I'll tell the Gaoler how my nose got bloody, if he asks.” Leo realised – Clemency realised, remember who you are right now – that she was not entirely sure how to unlace the dress she was wearing or to lace up a new one. And if she was going to be seen as a girl, keeping as much clothing on as possible, was helpful anyway.

The door closed. The holding cell was large enough for a grown person to stand up in or lie down in, if they weren't unusually tall, but not very wide. She had heard that deep in Oldfort there were cells deliberately designed so you could not stand up or lie down, and after a day or so in those people begged to be flogged instead, and after a week they begged to be hanged. But – well, he was little. They wouldn't have cells like that that worked for him – would they? He was beginning to feel scared. Crying would have come easily now. It did. If things went wrong... they could hang him... but if he didn't get the message to Charity, what would happen to Perfidy – and to him?

The door was opened and he was taking by the guard – roughly but not unkindly – up a narrow staircase, and into the Gaoler's Dock. This wasn't a court room as such, but there was a barrier between you and the Gaoler. The Gaoler, was, after all, a gentleman – actually this one was a lady – technically a Magistrate, although they only heard these very quick pleas. On the table in front of the Gaoler was a huge leather bound ledger bound in dark blue leather.

“Name?” asked the Gaoler.

Leo opened his mouth to answer, but it had gone dry and he couldn't speak.

“She wouldn't give her name to us, My Lady.” said the Guard.

“I see. Young Miss – you are obliged to tell me your name. If you refuse, I will have you taken downstairs and whipped until you agree. It won't take long. I guarantee that.”

“Clemency, My Lady,” Leo managed to croak. “Clemency Willson.”

“Give the girl some water.” A teenage boy in some sort of liveried tabard over fine expensive clothing standing next to the Gaoler, poured some water from a jug into a clay beaker and passed it over Leo. He looked at it. He knew it was wise to avoid drinking the water inside Oldfort. The Lady Gaoler smiled. “This is my own water, Clemency. It does not come from the wells in here. Drink. You obviously know about the water here, and this may be the last you get for a while that you can trust.”

“Thank you, My Lady.”

“You are welcome. I don't see any reason to be cruel unless you deserve it, and I see that you were not refusing to answer me, but were just scared. That is all right. You should be scared. This is a scary place. What is the charge against Clemency?”

“Theft, My Lady.” said the Guard.

“Of what?”

“A brooch.”

The Lady Gaoler grimaced. “Valuable?”

“The Jeweller said two florins, My Lady.”

“Hmm... Clemency, do you know the law?”

Leo did, and understood why the question was being asked, but Clemency Willson, cobbler's granddaughter might not know, so he shook his head.

The Lady spoke “The theft of property valued at two florins or more is felony. That means you can hang for it. Do you understand how serious this is?”

Leo nodded. He really did.

The Lady looked at the Guardsman. “Is the Jeweller a reasonable man?”

“I would say so, My Lady.”

“So the two florins is his selling price. He makes a profit so what is it's real value? In terms of metal and time. It's inherent value, I mean. Your opinion as the Guard before me.”

“It can't be more than a florin and five or six pennies.”

“I agree. We'll value it conservatively. Clemency Willson, you are formally charged with the theft of a brooch valued at sixteen pennies. I will remand you until trial – that should be tomorrow or the next day on the current docket is in - and I must warn you very clearly that I am recording you in this ledger by name and description – if you come before me again, I will not be taking such pains on your behalf as I am doing now.”

“Thank you, My Lady.”

“Who are your parents?”

“I don't have parents, My Lady. I live with my Grandfather, Eda Willson. He's a cobbler in Stone Lane.”

A note was made of this.

“Take her down to the cells.”

A different guard took his arms and took him down a different staircase. They went deeper. The air was damp. The walls were damp. Guttering torches were at intervals. In the distance, Leo could hear screaming.

He was taken to a door, which was opened, and he was pushed inside. He found himself in a fairly large room, with a dozen or so girls aged from about seven to – if he had to guess – fourteen or fifteen. They were generally sitting around, separate from each other. At the far end he could see a latrine – if he had to use it, he would be in clear sight of everybody else. That could be a problem. But the light was bad, so hopefully not much of one, and he wondered how closely somebody would pay attention to somebody doing that anyway. Hopefully not very. From what little he knew, girls seemed more squeamish about such things than boys.

He looked around, and he saw Charity sitting in a corner off to his left. He walked over and sat down next to her. She looked at him curiously and he said in a quiet voice.

“Eadgar says you are to tell nobody nuffin until you see him. The fix is in. You will see him.”

Charity stiffened. And then relaxed with an audible sigh of relief. Leo felt the relief flowing out of her, and he felt it too. If she was so relieved, it meant she trusted whatever Eadgar had fixed to get her out of this situation – and that was good for Leo too.

Charity almost whispered. “I don't know you, do I?”

Leo replied “We met the other day.”

Charity stared at his face. “Leo?”

“It's Clemency at the moment.”

Charity seemed to be thinking hard about this revelation. “Eadgar said 'tell nobody nuffin' is that right? Those exact words?”

“Yes. All right. But he and I are going to have a serious talk about you, Clemency.”

They sat there in silence for a while, then Charity spoke. “So are you a boy dressed as a girl, or were you a girl dressed as a boy?”

“I'm a boy dressed as a girl.”

“I thought so. Well, if you need to use the latrine, let me know and I'll stand cover. It's not so unusual – they sometimes get girls down here who've never had to do it outside of privacy. Have you just come down from the Gaoler?”

“Yes.”

“Who did you see, do you know?”

“A Lady.”

“What colour was her book?”

“Green.”

“Lady Bettany, she's a good one. I got Sir Kevar, and he's a right sour type. They took him off the main bench and made him a Gaoler because he never let anybody off, except for bribes and that made it pretty obvious. I'm charged with picking pockets – for a purse you stole, but fair enough, I do do that – but resisting arrest, assaulting a guardsman – and he threatened to charge the guardsmen with perjury when he said I hadn't! He was doing his best to see I hanged. Trouble is, I wasn't sure anything would be arranged, because back home they probably just think I'd just get done for picking – and they hardly ever hang anybody for just that nowadays. So who's your guvnor? I've never seen you around the rookery before.”

“I'm not a rook.”

Charity nodded. “Thought so. Wanted you to tell me, though.”

“You could have just asked.”

“Could have. Didn't. Don't suppose Lady Bettany told you what state the docket is in?”

“She said I should to to court tomorrow or the next day?”

“Good. I'm sick of this place. I'm getting thirsty and I'm getting hungry. I can last one more day, I think.”

“Is the water really that bad?”

“Up here, no. They give us one of the better cells. But I won't trust it if I can avoid it. Tell me, did you get yourself pinched just to give me a message?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don't think I should say until you've talked to Eadgar.”

“Fair enough. I'll just have to speculate and seeing he said to tell nobody nuffin, I'll do it in my head. But I'm assuming he gave you a way out.”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Set me up with a grandfather.”

“Eda Willson?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess we're sisters for the moment. We'll tell them that – they might take you up with me, it'll be faster for you.”

Charity leaned back against the wall. “You asked about the water? You ever been in here before?”

“I've been in Oldfort once, but the Gaoler let me go. I convinced him I was only six.”

“Youngish man with a short blond beard, and a red book?”

“Yes.”

“Sir Parket. Another good one. You have to be in swaddling to get away with that from Kevar. Parket's fair. He'll hang you, true enough, but only if the evidence is against you, even with the benefit of the doubt. Only problem is he won't take bribes – at least nobody has been important enough to offer an amount he'll take yet. But I'd rather face him clean that Kevar with a bribe in place. And that's saying something.”

“Have you been in here a lot?”

“Third time. But I've learned my lessons well. I've got a fair idea of how the place works. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to try and sleep. Time passes faster. And I haven't been able to until now, because I was worried, they'd hang me. Wake me if you need to go over there, but besides that, best try and sleep as much as you can.”


	9. Chapter 9

Charity dropped off to sleep very quickly, but Leo did not find it so easy. He was not particularly worried now, but this really was a very uncomfortable place. The floor was hard and damp. The walls were damp. Light was limited – he was surprised he could see as well as he could – and some of the girls in the place were crying. He wasn't. But he felt like he easily could, and certainly would, if Charity hadn't given him the confidence he would get out of there – possibly as early as tomorrow. And he wasn't tired. He'd slept in the most comfortable bed he'd ever slept in the night before – was it the only bed he'd ever slept in? That seemed perfectly plausible, but perhaps he had had a bed when he was very small. If the Rooks stole more than they needed to just to stay alive and they were good at it, maybe their lives could be more comfortable than the one that he experienced,

For that matter, Perfidy obviously had more money than she'd ever let him know about stowed away – and simply hadn't used it because she hadn't felt the reasons good enough to use money she regarded as tainted.

So the Rooks wanted Leo – or maybe they did, he was sure there were still details about all of that he didn't understand. Would that be so bad? Perfidy had taken him away from them, because she said he wouldn't get a choice – well, what if he wanted to choose to be a Rook? Something she had said to Eadgar, about whether or not he would become a witch - “It will be his choice,” made him think that even Perfidy would agree, if it came to it, that he had the right to choose to join the Rooks if he chose to.

Had Eadgar had a choice? He was a witch, it seemed, so had the Rooks given him a choice or had they done to him what Perfidy feared they'd do to Leo? If they had, was it that bad? Eadgar seemed to agree with Perfidy that Leo should have the choice, if possible, but he'd shown no sign that he thought it was a bad choice.

So what would Leo do? If it was a choice. Would he choose to be a Rook? If it gave him a better life, a life more comfortable, a life with some protection from the gallows if you were caught stealing too... would he choose that, if it was a choice?

Perfidy had chosen to escape from that. But Perfidy had faith in God and in the Saints, and she took all the teachings of the Church pretty seriously, and the Church made it clear that you weren't supposed to steal. She was realistic, but it was obvious that she only accepted theft because there wasn't any good alternative.

Leo didn't have her faith. She tried to pass it on to him. She'd taught him about the Saints and the Saviour, Gatanedes, and while some of the Saints, and the Saviour himself seemed like very good and admirable people, he did not believe in them the way she did. Could he live his life the way the Church said he should, just because they said he should? No.

But... Perfidy was something different. She didn't want him to be a thief forever either, and that did matter, he realised. If he had the choice to join the Rooks or not – it was Perfidy, not some Saint or even God, whose opinion would guide him. And the fact she seemed to grudgingly accept that it was his choice made him think that even more. If Perfidy did not want him to be a Rook – then that might not be a choice he wanted to make.

Except... to be a witch. That was something different. No, not to be a witch, as much to be a Sorcerer. If he had the chance of that... then that would be something he might want to do, whether Perfidy approved or not. If he had this potential, why shouldn't he use it? Even the Priest at the Church Perfidy had dragged him to last Haligdae said you could be a Sorcerer without necessarily upsetting God or the Church – or Perfidy. She didn't hate her brother, and she said she'd never hate him. And the idea of being able to use the powers that he apparently already had a little bit of was one he found appealing. Very appealing. And how would he learn to use them? If the Rooks could teach him – then joining the Rooks might be the only way he had to learn. It might be his only choice – a bad choice, but you made the bad choices when you didn't have any others.

He lay there in the darkness looking at the ceiling – or looking where the ceiling had to be, he could not see it in the darkness. He was looking into the darkness, looking into the future and trying to see what he could see. He had heard that those with powers could tell the future. Well, if that was true, it was not working for him.

He did fall asleep eventually, and eventually he woke up, not having any idea of what the time was, except everybody else now seemed to be asleep. Because of this he decided not to wake Charity and instead relied on stealth and basic human decency to relieve himself, without being watched. The skirts of the dress made this fairly easy, and it was the only time they seemed to have actually worked in his favour.

He was sure nobody had watched him. It was a little unusual to have a feeling of not being watched. He realised he was feeling lonely. The only person he knew at all who was at all nearby was Charity, and he barely knew her at all, although he felt like he had some connection to her because she was Perfidy's sister, he supposed. Perfidy – no, her name was Verity, apparently. He knew that that meant something like 'Truth', and it fitted with her sister's names – Amity, Charity, Hope, and Faith. It fitted with Clemency too, but that made sense if the plan was, as it seemed, to pass he and Charity off as sisters. But what Perfidy mean? He'd have to ask, but he wasn't sure he'd ask her. He knew a lot of words, he even knew the word vocabulary, but he did not know that one.

He must have slept again and when he woke up, he realised Charity, who he was lying next to, had wrapped her arms around him in the night. For warmth? That would make sense. She was still asleep, so he pulled away, but in doing so woke her. She stood up quickly, leaping to her feet as if startled. And stood there listening to the noises of Oldfort. She spoke.

“It's morning. They'll bring around the food soon. Take some and hide it in a corner, just in case we don't get taken to the court today – remember you're my sister, and they might take us together. Don't eat it unless you have to – if we get out, it'll be easier to get something better outside, and very hard to get anything worse. You've never been before the beak – it's easy. Plead guilty, and remember the story. The fix is in, and we'll be out as soon as we can be.

Leo was starting to get nervous again. When the food was brought around, he took it – it actually seemed to be relatively fresh bread and he wondered how bad it could really be, but while he was hungry, he'd been a lot hungrier, so he took Charity's advice. About ten minutes – perhaps a little longer – after the bread was given out, the door was opened again, and a young man in livery stood in the doorway.

“Right, you ruffians. I have the docket. When your name is called, line up.”

Leo started. He knew that voice. He could not place it, but he had heard it before. The names were called out and he heard 'Charity Willson' among them, but not 'Clemency Willson'. Charity joined the line, as they began to file out, she said, in a very polite tone of voice. “Master Tipstaff...”

“If you are going to address me, refer to me as My Lord.”

“I am sorry, My Lord. I did not know. My Lord, my sister is in the cells as well. Could she come up with us? It might get things done quicker.”

The boy – he was still a boy – looked at the sheafs of papers in his hands. “What is her name?”

“Clemency Willson, My Lord.”

“Well – the charge is minor. Seeing that you know your place so well and you are so courteous for the guttersnipe you are, yes, I'll stick her on the end of today's docket.”

“Thank you, My Lord. Come here, Clemency.”

Leo ran forward.

“Say thank you to the nice tipstaff, Clemency.”

“Thank you, My Lord.” Now he was close, Leo realised who this was. It was the boy he'd met in Cushion Street without his silly orange hat. They followed him up the stairs. There were two guardsmen with them as well to guard half a dozen girls.

They were shown into a court room and told to sit on a bench. Leo tried to ask Charity about the boy, but the boy himself shushed him to silence before approaching a – Leo wasn't even sure what you call it. Maybe a throne? A very impressive chair surrounded by a wooden framework. The boy stood in front of a much less impressive seat next to it.

“All stand for Sir Manifesk.”

A fairly elderly man wearing a long red robe – deep red, blood red – walked in from a door at one side of the room and climbed a step up to his – yes, best to call it a throne.

“Be seated. Lord Ongar, do you have the docket?”

The boy answered “Yes, Your Worship.”

Lord Ongar? Ongar was north of the city of Ongus, another smaller city where the King had his court. Did that make the boy, Lord Ongar, very important? If he was important, why was he doing this. And if he'd really been important, would the guard sergeant have spoken to him the way he did, when taking him to task for his comments directed at Leo? The boy was looking through his papers, and when he glanced up, he looked straight at Leo – who was looking straight at him. Their eyes locked and Leo stared at the boy who stared back for a moment, before turning his head away.

“The first case is that of Marjery of Northgate, who is charged with public vagrancy.”

A guard took Marjery by the arm and pulled her up to small fenced area. The boy came forward and placed a book in front of her. “Put your hand on this. Do you swear to tell the truth today, on pain of your immortal soul, and penalties of felonious perjury?”

“I do.”

The Magistrate spoke. “You are Marjery of Northgate?”

“I am.”

“Marjery, are you guilty or not guilty of the charge against you?”

“Guilty, My Lord.”

“If I discharge you do you have parents to go to?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Twelve lashes and discharged. Next.”

“The next case is Saskia Shoesmith, who is charged with the theft of a fishing net valued at four florins – a felony case, My Lord.”

Saskia was taken forward and swore on the scripture place before her.

“You are Saskia Shoesmith?” asked the Magistrate.

“Yes, Your Worship.”

“Saskia, are you guilty or not of the charge against you?”

“Guilty, Your Worship.”

“Is anything known against the girl?”

“No, Your Worship, she has not appeared in the ledgers before.”

“Saskia Shoesmith, you have pleaded guilty to a felony for which you could be hanged. Because of your plea of guilty, and the fact that this is your first time before me, I am mindful to be lenient. If I discharge you, do you have parents to go to?”

“Yes, Your Worship.”

“Your Worship?” a voice spoke from a raised gallery.

“Yes?”

“I am Saskia's father, I am willing to pay a surety of her good behaviour.”

“In that case, twenty florins or twenty lashes and discharged. And make it clear to your daughter that if she appears before the court again on a similar charge, she could truly hang, and no amount of money would spare her. Next.”

Things were moving very quickly. “The next case is Charity Willson. The charges are picking pockets to a value of four florins and four pence. Resisting arrest, and assault on a guardsmen. The first and third charges are felonious, Your Worship.”

Charity stepped up and put her hand on the book and swore.

“You are Charity Willson?”

“Yes, Your Worship.”

“Do you plead guilty or not guilty?”

“Guilty to the theft, and to resisting arrest. I did not assault anybody.”

“Discharged to the custody of your Grandfather.”

Charity left. Leo was surprised. It seemed so obvious that case had not been taken seriously. Surely it was obvious to everybody that 'the fix was in' as Eadgar had said. Not that he should complain about that, but it didn't give you much respect for the law. The boy standing next to the Magistrate was staring at him with a look of – it was anger, on his face. He really looked quite furious. He collected himself, and continued with the docket, until all the other girls had left the bench, then he spoke. “Your Worship, with your indulgence, I have added a case to the docket, because of something I was told in the cells.”

“This is most irregular.”

“My father told me my duties, My Lord, and the limits of my discretion.”

“Very well.”

The boy spoke. “The last case is Clemency Willson, who I was told is the sister of the girl Your Worship discharged a little earlier. The charge is theft of jewellery to the value of one florin and six pennies.”

Leo was brought up, and the boy placed the book in front of him. “Put your hand on this book of holy scripture? Do you swear to tell the truth today, on pain of your immortal soul, and penalties of felonious perjury?”

“I do.”

The Magistrate spoke “You are Clemency Willson?”

“Yes, Your Worship.”

“Do you plead guilty or not guilty.”

“Guilty.”

“Discharged to the custody of your grandfather, then.”

“Your Worship.” The boy turned and drew himself to his full height. “I submit that the defendant has perjured themselves – and thus committed felony.”

“On what do you base such a claim?” Sir Manifesk seemed outraged at his court being interrupted in this way.

“On the grounds, that I believe the defendant to be a boy – and therefore very unlikely to be named Clemency.”

“Do you have any proof of this?”

“Not exactly, My Lord – but it would not be that hard to prove if he's a boy. It would only take a minute.”

“Hmmm – well, the charge is serious, so I will have it checked. But if you are wrong, my boy, I shall be speaking to your father.”

“It's My Lord, Sir, not my boy. And I think you will be speaking to my father anyway. But if I have made a mistake, I will accept any consequences that result.”

The Magistrate looked at the two guards in the Court. “Corporal, take this girl – if girl she is – to an empty cell, and send the duty Sergeant up to me.”

Leo was brought down the stairs again and placed into a decent sized and well lit cell. It was much more comfortable than the one he had been in before – it had a proper bed. He was left there for nearly an hour before the door was opened, and a man came in. It was Marshal Mancaster, the Earl of Mancaster, the Head of the Guard who Leo had met once before on the night the man with the dice was killed – by the earl himself. There was also a middle aged nun – or at least a woman dressed like a nun – with him, and the boy from the court upstairs. Seeing them together, Leo realised that the boy was the son of the man – Earl of Mancaster and Baron of Ongar – was that why his son was Lord Ongar?

The Marshal looked at him. “Leo. It's Leo, isn't it?”

“Yes, My Lord.” What else could he say?

“Are you a boy pretending to be a girl right now? Or were you a girl all along?”

“I'm a boy, My Lord.”

The Magistrate turned to the woman in the habit. “Check, please. It could be important.”

The woman stepped forward, “Would you two gentlemen please turn around for a moment. Just in case it is a girl.” They did, and when they had, the woman told Leo to undress. Once he had, it was very easy to establish he was a boy. “You'd best put the dress back on for now. I'll see what I can do about getting you some other clothes.”

The Marshall turned around again and spoke to Leo.

“You've committed perjury, boy. A felony. Do you understand what that means?”

Leo nodded, suddenly, he had no ability to speak. Felonies carried the penalty of death by hanging. Not a certainty, but a possibility – and if the Marshal wanted it....

The Marshal looked at him with a stern expression on his face. “You'll be taken before a Gaoler and charged. Then as soon as it's convenient, you'll be brought before a court – a different Magistrate from the one before. I'm not giving anybody any time to arrange anything. If you know what is good for you, you won't make matters worse.”

The woman was at the door, and she turned around and spoke “My Lord, if it matters to you, from what I saw, I would not be able to be sure that he was seven yet.”

The door was opened, and Leo was grabbed by a guardsman who clamped manacles on him, and he was lead up another staircase, and into a room similar to the one he had been brought into the day before. A Gaoler's court. The Gaoler was not old, a blond man with a beard – Leo recognised him. Sir Parket, the Gaoler he had seen the year before when he had been brought in. He looked surprised to see them come in.

“I'm not due to hear cases for at least another hour. I have just come in to do some work on my ledger.”

“Marshal Mancaster wants this case heard quickly – and by you, Sir, if you please.”

“If the Marshall wants it, then, of course I will oblige. What's the charge?”

“Felonious perjury and theft. Actually I'm not sure about the theft. He'd been discharged for that.”

“Then it's discharged. Now, what is your name, young Miss?”

“Actually, he's a boy – that's the root of the perjury,” said the Guard.

“All right – what is your name, boy?”

Leo once again found it hard to speak. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“Do you want to be whipped until you tell us?”

He shook his head – and gestured to the jug on the table. It looked like all Gaolers had them.

“Ah.” Sir Parket handed him a beaker and let him drink it. “Name?”

“Leo.”

“Just Leo?”

“Leo of Dockside.”

The Gaoler's eyes narrowed. “Have I seen you before?”

“Yes, Sir. A year ago.”

“Yes, I saw your name just today in the ledger. What is the charge – perjury, you said?” he asked the Guard.

“Yes, Sir Parket.”

“Well, I will remand you.”

“I'm only six years old.” The woman downstairs had said she wasn't sure he was seven, and they couldn't hang you unless you were at least seven.

Sir Parket looked at him. “Can you read, Leo?”

“No.”

“Come over here.”

Leo approached him, and Sir Parket turned the pages of his ledger over until he found what he was looking for. “Do you see those three letters there? Do you know what they are?”

“L and E and O in classic script. My name.” He remembered Jobet saying so.

“Yes, it says “Leo of Dockside, before me for picking pockets. This is the date. It's more than a year ago. And it says I released you because you said you were six, and I gave you the benefit of the doubt. If you were six then – you are at least seven now. It's there in ink upon the page. I'm remanding you until trial. Take him down to the boys cells, I suppose.”

“The Marshall asked if you could keep him here. He's arranging for a quick trial.”

“I suppose so – for an hour or so at least.”

“I think that will be enough time.”

“Put him there. Manacled as he is, I don't believe there will be a problem.”

Leo was pushed down onto a chair. He sat there staring in terror ahead of him. And staring around the room. At staring at the ledger. Over and over again, at the Ledger. That book was going to condemn him. That book was going to get him hanged. He stared at it. The book of scripture downstairs. And this ledger book. Books would end him. He stared and stared at the book.

He did not know how long it was before he found himself being stood up again, and taken from the room. He was brought into a larger court room – bigger than the one he had been in before. Sitting on a large throne was another man in red robes, this one with a gold chain around his neck. A book of scripture was placed in front of Leo, and he placed his hand on it almost in a trance.

“Do you swear to tell the truth today, on pain of your immortal soul, and penalties of felonious perjury?”

He said “I do.”

“You are charged with felonious perjury. How do you plead?”

“Guilty.” he wasn't sure it was him saying it. It must have been, but it felt like he was.

“The sentence of this court is that you will be taken from here to another place and there as soon as it can be arranged, you will hung by the neck until you are dead, and may the Good Lord have mercy on your soul.”

“My Lord Justice, I must speak!” A woman's voice cried out.

“What?”

“I am the Matron of the Cells and I inspected this child only a little over an hour ago. I do not believe him to be seven years old.”

Sir Parket spoke. Leo had not realised he had come with him. “My Lord Justice, I have evidence that he is. He's in my ledger from over a year ago, telling me was six at the time.”

“Let me see.”

Sir Parket handed over the red leather bound book. “Page Nine, My Lord Justice. The entry for Leo of Docksides.”

The Judge looked at the book. “There is an entry that refers to the Docksides, but I cannot read the name. It is smudged, blurred.”

Sir Parket said, “My Lord, if I may show you?”

“Approach and show me.”

Sir Parket stepped up and looked at his Ledger. “This can't be... there's smudges everywhere. All over the place.”

“I really think you could do a better job of maintaining your Ledger, Sir Parket. It is a court record.”

“My Lord Justice, I do... something is wrong here...”

“If I may see?” Marshal Mancaster stepped up to look. And then he turned and stared at Leo. “My Lord Justice... I know it's irregular, but I ask for clemency for the boy.”

“It's unusual, seeing you brought the charges, but it isn't improper.” The Judge thought. “What do you want – if it's proper, I will grant it?”

“Discharge the boy into my custody, so I may work out what to do with him.”

“Is this clemency?”

“I intend it to be.”

“Very well. Leo of Docksides, as we do not seem to have proof that you are seven – although I am convinced of it, I commute the sentence of death and discharge you into the custody of the Earl of Mancaster. Records of this case are to be sealed and handed to him. Take him with you – he's yours to deal with right now.”


	10. Chapter 10

Leo's head was spinning. What had just happened? Had he really just been sentenced to death by hanging, and then had the sentence commuted within a period of what could not have been more than two or three minutes? Now, he found himself following the Marshal Mancaster, Commander of the City Guard, and Earl of Mancaster, rapidly down a hallway, with a guard on either side of him. The Marshall was approaching a door which was flanked by two guardsman, one of whom moved to open thedoor. The Earl walked inside, followed by Leo, the two guards at his side, stayed outside. A third followed him in and placed a red leather bound book and some papers on a desk that was larger than any bed Leo had ever seen, and then went back outside when the door was shut.

“Sidley!” barked the Earl, and the teenaged boy that Leo now believed to be his son came in from a side chamber.

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Get yourself home and go through your old clothing. Find something suitable for this boy to wear. Bring everything if you don't think you can judge his size. Be quick about it.”

“My Lord!” The boy cast a glance at Leo, and ran out the door. The Earl picked up a large quill pen, and wrote something on a sheet of paper. He folded the paper, and picked up a small green stick which he held into a candle. It was almost like a small candle itself – in fact, Leo decided that is what it was. Wax was dripped from it onto the paper, while the Earl called out: “Sergeant!”

A Guard Sergeant came in from the side room. “My Lord?”

The Earl had taken a ring off his finger and was pushing it into the melted green wax. “Have this delivered post haste to the address on it.”

“Yes, My Lord.” and the Sergeant ran from the room.

The Earl turned and looked at Leo, who was standing near the door. Leo was shaking. And then he realised he was crying. The Earl looked at him, and then gestured to a large chair next to a fireplace.

“Sit down, Lad. It's all right. If you're sensible, nothing bad is going to happen to you. In fact, if you're sensible, you can have some hope that your life is about to change for the better. I don't suppose you've had any breakfast?”

Leo shook his head.

“What would you like?”

Leo stared and then managed to say, “Anything, My Lord.”

“Eggs and bacon?”

Leo had enjoyed them immensely the day before, but that was the traditional last breakfast of the condemned and at the moment, he had no stomach for it. He shook his head.

“Are you sure? You can have anything you like. Within reason – it has to be available somewhere nearby.”

“Chipped potatos.” He had had them once in his life, and he had dreamed of them ever since. They were something new, he had been told – they had been brought across from somewhere over the Deorsk Ocean, and he had eaten three chips from a very small parcel Perfidy had bought for them all to share. It was the type of thing he thought he would buy if he ever had gold to spend on food.

“All right, that's easily arranged. Anything else.”

“Could I have... some milk.”

The Earl looked at him, and a surprisingly gentle smile appeared on his face. “Yes, Leo. I can get you some milk. Wait here.”

The Earl left the room for a moment, and when he returned he sat down on the large chair next to Leo. He looked at the braid in Leo's hair, and carefully spent a few minutes undoing it. A guard walked in carrying a large jug, a second guard was carrying two very fine blue beakers. A third guard was carrying a loaf of bread, and some cheese.They placed them on the desk, and left.

The Earl poured two beakers of milk and handed one to Leo. “The chipped potatos will be here just as soon as my guardsmen have persuaded a chipmaker to open early for the day, and heat his oil. It's the last part that may take a little while. So have some cheese and bread, if you wish.”

Sidley returned, carrying a bundle of clothes. “My Lord?”

“You can call me Father, now.”

“You told me not to when anybody in Oldfort could hear.”

“We'll make an exception for Leo.”

“Yes, Father... have you told him anything yet?”

“Not yet. Why?”

“When you do, there's something I want to tell him as well.”

“What's that?”

Sidley looked at his feet for a moment. “Do you remember Sergeant Brastell, telling you about an urchin boy I was rude to in Cushion Street?”

“Yes. That's why I've got you working here if you recall.”

“That was Leo, Father.”

“And you want to apologise to him?”

“I suppose I do – but not just for that.”

The Earl looked at his son. “I understand, I think. Not yet, but soon, yes. For now, you'd best get back to your duties.”

“Who with, Father – I mean, I need to be assigned to somebody else?”

“Yes, that's a good point. For now, go and see the Clerk and tell him I said you are to make yourself useful. We've thrown the courts into disarray, I'm sure he needs some help with something.”

Sidley bowed to his Father, and left.

The Earl stood. “I will be back in a moment, Leo. I suggest you take the chance to get out of that dress and into more appropriate clothing. I'm sure you will find something in that pile.”

“Yes, My Lord... My Lord...”

“Yes?”

“I don't know how to untie this dress.”

“Yes – bloody stupid things. It's not hard if you can see what you are doing, but I have never understood why they lace them from the back. Stand up.”

Leo felt the dress become looser.

“You should be able to manage now.”

As soon as the Earl left, Leo went over to the clothes. He looked around for hose and a tunic that would fit, and found a couple of things, all in pale blue, that looked close enough. He realised that when he had bought his hose and tunic, that while he had paid for better quality than he had ever had before, and while they looked quite good, what he was putting on now were clothes that had been bought for a noble, and they were very nice indeed. The hose even had a sort of string tied around its top which he could tighten, which was useful, because he was much thinner than Sidley had obviously been at the same height.

He went over to the desk and opened the red ledger book. Page nine, they had said in the court – that was IX, he turned to it and looked to where he had been shown his name on the page. Where the letters, L and E and O had been was simply a blur. There were other blurs on the page as well – and on other pages in the ledger, as well.

He heard a cough and he looked around to see the Earl had come back into the room. Leo backed away from the book. The Earl spoke.

“Can you read, Leo?”

“Only my name, My Lord.”

“Ah... that makes some sense, I think. So somebody taught you how to read your name?”

“Not really, My Lord. I mean – I don't think she was meaning to teach me, she just showed me and I remember.” He paused. “I could probably puzzle out a few other words as well.”

“Such as?”

“Barmaids' quarters. No boys.”

The Earl laughed out loud. “Now, that's an interesting thing to be able to read, when you can't read much else.”

“Why?”

The Earl shook his head, chuckling. “You'll learn when you need to. But for now just sit down again. We need to have a talk.”

Leo sat down again, and the Earl looked at him for well over a minute. He seemed about to speak when a Guardsman carrying a platter covered with chipped potatoes walked in. The Earl gestured to Leo and the Guard handed it over. Leo began to eat them quickly. They were as good as he could remember. But very hot.

The Earl leaned in. “You're caught up in something, Leo, and I want to be clear to you about something. I need your help and if you don't give it to me, there will be serious consequences. I don't want to hurt you. But I will if I need to. I want to help you, if I can, but I really do need your help to do that. I didn't plan to hang you – but I would have if you hadn't helped me, and the only reason I've taken that option off the table is because I now have something better to offer you. I'd rather use the carrot than the stick – at least with a boy your age. But while you've given me a chance of a great carrot to offer you, you've also given me an even bigger stick.”

“I don't understand.”

“It's simple enough. There are laws on the books that allow a person to be burned at the stake for witchcraft, and on that desk, there's proof enough for me to have you charged with it, and a careful word to the Bishop – well, at least hanging is clean and over fast, if it's done right. But... I can also offer you the chance of learning how to master the talents you've obviously got. I can get you apprenticed to somebody who can teach you sorcery – and I will if you help me.”

“How can I help you?”

“Are you a Rook?”

Leo, shook his head, and said “No.”

“Leo, I need an honest answer.”

“That is an honest answer. I'm not a Rook.”

“Then you may not be able to help me, and then we have a bit of a problem, don't we?”

Leo had finished the chipped potatoes. “May I have another beaker of milk, please?”

“Yes. All right.”

The Earl went over and poured another beaker. He handed it to Leo. And Leo said,

“My Lord, how can I help you? I'm not a Rook, but if you thought I was...”

“It's simple enough. Do you know what corruption means?”

“Yes, I think so. It's... when somebody does something they shouldn't.”

“More or less. In this case, the Magistrate's Courts of this city – look, in court today, my son tells me it was obvious that somebody had bribed Sir Manifesk – so he'd grant clemency to your sister – not that she is your sister – and yourself. He didn't even try to hide it. I need somebody to confirm that he is in the pay of the Rooks. I've had him arrested, and if I can get that, I'll put him on trial, and, frankly, I hope he hangs. The problem is, anybody who can prove he's in the pay of the Rooks implicates themselves in his crimes. Which is why I wanted someone like you to do it. I can justify letting somebody like yourself off the hook for giving King's Evidence easily enough – I don't want to do that with a hardened criminal.”

Leo thought. “I can, My Lord, put you in touch with a former Rook, who knows that a bribe was put in place for me by the Rooks.”

“Why did they do it?”

“I can't explain that, My Lord. I'm not absolutely certain, myself, of everything. And... I won't betray people who were trying to help me and her.”

“Even if it means you get burned at the stake.”

Leo thought for a moment. “I think I would betray them to stop that happening. But I don't want to.”

“Honest. Very honest. All right... I'm going to have you released. You need to bring Perfidy to me within two days or I will issue warrants for her arrest and yours.”

“How do you know it's Perfidy?”

“I didn't – until you just confirmed it.” He saw the look on Leo's face. “Look, don't feel bad. I was ninety nine parts of one hundred sure, but I did not have total certainty. She's the obvious person for you to be so concerned about protecting. Tell her... tell her this. If she comes in to talk to me, I will treat her fairly and justly and you as well. Do you think you can find her in two days?”

“I'm sure I can. I can probably do it within two hours.”

“Well, when you find her, both of you come to the black door you'll be let out of, and knock. Tell the guard who opens it, you need to see me, and the password is... chipped potatoes. They'll let you in.”

“And if I can help you – you'll help me find a way to...” He stopped. Should he say it. Would it be an admission?”

“Learn sorcery. Yes, I'm pretty sure I can.”

Leo chose his words very carefully. “Why do you think I can do magic?”

The Earl of Mancaster stood and walked over to the ledger. “Every single L, E, and O, in this ledger is blurred. Gone. In my younger days... well, I saw some things, and I learned a few little things, and there's a thing called psychic talent, that Sorcerer's prize and need. Those who have really high talents in that area – under stress, they can make things happen sometimes. It's not Sorcery – that's focused and trained. But it means that if you're smart enough as well and, you have certain other attributes,” he picked up the beaker and threw it to Leo, who caught it in his left hand. “you can be taught. And I know someone who can teach you.”

“Who?”

“That can wait for now. For now, you need to get out into the city and find Perfidy so she can help me, and I can help you.”

The Earl himself lead Leo down through a series of narrow hallways, and up some stairs until they came to a room with two guards in it. Both came to their feet at attention, as the Earl entered, and sat down again at his wave. He lifted a bar, and then a latch, and finally opened a lock – the key was still in it, before pushing the door out into the street.

“Good luck, Leo. Don't let yourself down by letting me down.”

Leo found himself facing city wall itself – Oldfort backed onto it on one side, and wondered where he should go. Where would he find Perfidy? The plan for his release had gone wrong, and the last place he had seen her – St Deniol's – it did not seem likely she would still be there. Home was all he could think of. And so he began walking towards home.

He found himself walking along the riverbank past the river baths, and as he took a fairly sharp turn to be even closer to the river, he realised he was being followed, once again. But he knew who it was this time. It was Charity. He walked at a slightly slower place than he normally would have and she gradually came closer. She was probably aware that he knew she was there, and she was catching up, but she was not rushing to do so. She did catch up with him, just as he reached Cutter's Lane, and said “You're to go to the alley behind the Dead Dog, and wait for Eadgar there.”

Leo nodded, and turned into Cutter's Lane. The Dead Dog was another name for a pub called the Faithful Hound, and it wasn't all that far away. It had an alley with a bend in it behind it, and once you were in that bend, you would not be seen unless somebody came out the back door of the pub or all the way up the alley. It was not a pleasant place to be – some people used it as a completely unofficial latrine facility – but it was a good place not to be seen. When he arrived, there was nobody there, but only a minute or so later, Eadgar came around the corner from the alley.

“Hello Eadgar,” said Leo, but Eadgar put a finger to his lips. They both stood there in silence looking at each other for quite a while, before Perfidy, still dressed as a boy, came through the back door of the pub. She walked up to Leo, and put her hand on his cheek for a moment, and then Eadgar spoke.

“What happened? How did you get out?”

“I'm not sure I should tell you.”

Eadgar stepped towards him “I'm not in the mood for games, Leo. My plans go wrong sometimes, but I need to know why it happened.”

Perfidy spoke “You can tell him, Leo.”

“There was a noble boy working for the Magistrate.”

“Yes, they have them do that as tipstaffs. So?”

“He knew who I was. Or at least he knew I was a boy. He called me out for perjury.”

“Ah... well, I can't easily plan for that. So how did you get out?”

Leo looked at Eadgar and Perfidy. “I made a deal with the Earl of Mancaster – or at least the start of a deal.”

“What?” Both Eadgar and Perfidy looked stunned.

“I should probably let him explain it,” he faced Perfidy, “He told me to bring you in to see him, so he could explain what he needs from you.”

Suddenly there was a noise, from the alley. Only a slight noise, but a noise nonetheless. All three of them turned to look, and then seemingly out of nowhere, a man was slashing at Leo with a sword. He hit as well, and Leo fell backwards screaming in pain as the blade bit into his arm. Leo crashed to the ground and was only a spectator to what happened next.

Eadgar gestured with his left hand and screamed some words that made no sense, and a bolt of black energy flew from his hand at the man with the sword. Perfidy wrenched her sword from her scabbard, and took the man directly in the throat with an impressive thrust, then span around to look for another threat. A second man was coming down the alley, and Perfidy ran towards him yelling. “See to Leo!”

Eadgar dropped to his knees next to Leo, and put his hands on his arm. He spoke more strange words, and Leo felt his head swimming, but for a moment felt better before suddenly things started to go dark and an awful taste came into his mouth. Eadgar swore, and then said more words, and Leo felt a little better. He watched as Eadgar stood and began to gesture, but then he stopped, and drew his own sword, and simply stood there, while Perfidy fought for her life only a short distance away. Leo tried to get to her, but Eadgar pushed him down.

Perfidy was fighting with a skill that Leo found surprising. She obviously knew what she was doing. The other person did as well though, and Leo wondered why Eadgar wasn't helping. He just stood there with his sword in his hand and watched, and pushed Leo down each time he tried to stand up. Perfidy struck the man across the face, and then a slash caught Perfidy on the side, but she finally thrust her sword into the man's stomach, and as he fell, she stabbed him in the chest. Eadgar dropped his sword and jumped to her and placed his hands on her.

“It's not that bad,” she said.

Eadgar said “Poisoned blades and spoke the last set of words he had said to Leo again. Perfidy swayed but stayed upright.

Eadgar knelt down next to the man on the ground near Perfidy. “He's not local.” Then he swore again, and said the word “Clan,” as if it was a swear word too.

He stepped over to the other body near Leo, and looked at it.

“Oh God, I don't even know what this one is.”

What was lying there on the ground could almost have called the ugliest man, Leo had ever seen. Everything was in the wrong place, enough to be very disconcerting, but it wasn't ugly. Somehow it was beautiful. Perfidy was dragging over the other body, and Leo watched as she and Eadgar without discussing it, placed both of them in positions that could lead a person to conclude they'd managed to stab each other.

Eadgar knocked on the back door of the pub – three knocks, then two, then two again. Then he reached down and pulled Leo to his feet. The door was opened a moment later, and Eadgar pushed Leo through it. Perfidy came next, and the Eadgar. The girl standing there opened her mouth at the sight of blood on Leo and Perfidy. Eadgar spoke, “Get Jakar.” The girl turned and ran out the door – they were in a kitchen, and a moment later, a large man came back with her.

Eadgar had something small and purple in his hand, which he handed to the man. “This is my surety. Get me a room. One of your ground floor rooms.”

“All right. Follow me.”

They were lead into a small and dirty room, with a small and dirty bed. Perfidy barely made it in there, she was swaying and looking very pale. Eadgar guided her to the bed. She said “Leo...”

“Leo is in better shape than you. I got more healing into him than I could get into you. Now lie down, because I ain't got nothing left. You'll be all right, but you need to rest.”

She crashed down onto the bed, and almost immediately passed out. Eadgar drew a dagger and cut away her tunic to see her wound. Leo realised she was probably wearing nothing underneath and looked away. Perfidy would not want him to see such a thing. It was probably all right for Eadgar, he was her brother, and he was trying to treat an injury. “Leo, that tunic you are wearing, is it clean?”

“I think so. Except for the blood on the arm.”

“Then take it off, and use Perfidy's sword,” which was lying on the ground “to cut a sleeve off. I need bandages and there's no clean linen here.” Leo pulled off the tunic and noticed that his own arm though red, showed no sign of being wounded. Eadgar's magic had healed him.

“Give me the sleeve,” said Eadgar. Leo tried to hand it over without looking at Perfidy, and Eadgar snapped, “This is not the time to worry about good manners, Leo, whatever sister dear has tried to teach you. I need to make sure she doesn't lose any more blood.”

Leo turned. He did his best to focus all of his attention on Perfidy's side where she'd been stabbed and to not see anything else. The wound was still leaking blood. Eadgar took the sleeve and began slitting it along its length. Leo asked.

“Why don't you use magic?”

“I can't. I haven't anything left. I'm limited in what I can do each day.”

“Why did you let her get stabbed?”

Eadgar spoke, “Same reason. You'd been poisoned and I needed to make sure I was able to get that out of her system too. I had just enough, but I couldn't use magic, and if I had gone in to fight... there'd have been nobody left to protect you. Who would Perfidy want me to fight for?”

“But she's your sister!”

“Yes, she is. Now shut up, so I can keep her alive a little longer.”

“Is she going to die?”

“I don't think so, but she's not in good shape.”

“So what do we do.”

“For the moment, we wait.”


	11. Chapter 11

Leo thought he was good at waiting - he had had to do plenty of it over the years, but waiting and doing nothing but watch Perfidy – now covered by a blanket by Eadgar – breathe was something he found incredibly trying. But while she was breathing, she was alive, and that was all that really mattered.

How long would she sleep for? Would she be able to get up when she awoke. He had to get her back to Oldfort within two days, after all.

“Eadgar,” he said.

“What is it, Leo?”

“I have a deadline – Perfidy does as well. The Marshal is waiting to see her.”

“What is it?”

“The deadline? Two days from the time I was released,”

Well, assuming she lives until midnight – and she should – she will be fine. I can heal her then. My power will be back. The bigger problem – Leo, you should probably consider getting out of here.”

“Why? I can't leave Perfidy.”

“I've had to give a surety to get this room – two dead bodies in an alley outside the back door. That means there's a good chance somebody senior from the Rooks will be here shortly – and if they know who you are, then that could be a real problem. That will depend on who comes. Both whether they know who you are, to start with, and if they do, whether they will be prepared to let you be or not. It really might be best if you are not here.”

“I won't leave Perfidy.”

“She'd want you to.”

“At the moment, I do not care.”

“I'm not sure you'd say that if she was conscious.”

“Nor am I, but at the moment, she is and if she wasn't, we would not have this problem, would we?”

“I can't make you leave, but... if anybody comes, I'll do my best to help you, but there may not be all that much that I can do. I'll do everything in my power, but my powers are limited here as well.”

“Why would you help me?”

“Let's just call it brotherly love,” said Eadgar, stroking Perfidy's hair. “I promised Perfidy – well, a lot of things, but one of them was to help you. Now – if you're going to stay, whatever happens, I need you to follow my lead. I need you to promise to do whatever I tell you to do, without asking questions.”

“Why?”

“That's a question. I will answer it, but it's the last one. Because I know what I'm doing and if I say something or do something I am doing it for a reason.

They sat there in silence for a while, both looking at Perfidy. She seemed to be breathing more steadily and she looked a little less pale, Leo thought. There was a knock on the door, and Eadgar stood. He whispered to Leo in a voice just barely audible. “Pick up Perfidy's sword, and try and look like you know what to do with it – in your right hand.”

When they were both armed, Eadgar said “Come in.”

A woman walked in. She was in her early twenties and she looked an awful lot like Perfidy. She was dressed in a gown - it was too grand to call it a dress – that was a colour somewhere between purple and blue. Leo heard Eadgar draw in his breath, and watched as he lowered his sword. Leo did the same. The woman looked over towards the bed, and then stepped rapidly towards it looking down at Perfidy. She turned and faced Eadgar.

“How long?”

“About two days.”

The woman drew back her hand and delivered an almighty smack across Eadgar's face. He dropped his sword, and his hands flew to his cheek. Leo wondered if he still had all his teeth. Then the woman looked in his direction.

“Is that...”

“His name is Leo,” said Eadgar, “and yes, he is exactly who you think he is.”

“How long?”

“You owe me another slap.”

“Later. Leo, my name is...”

“Amity,” said Leo.

“How do you know?”

“I'm not stupid. Perfidy told me her sister's names and you are obviously her sister.”

“Perfidy? You mean Verity?”

“If you say so.”

“So she's told you her sister's names? That still doesn't explain how you know I am Amity, and not one of the others.”

Leo thought about that. True enough. But... “Amity, Faith, Hope, and Charity. I've met Charity, so that leaves Amity, Faith, and Hope.”

“Go on.”

“You are older than Perfidy. Charity is younger. Faith, Hope, and Charity traditionally go together, so if I was naming people, I'd keep the pattern... Amity makes sense.”

Amity nodded. “I am Amity. I am also called Amethyst. Do you know what that means?”

“It's a purple gemstone.”

“Yes, but that's not the meaning I was referring to.”

Eadgar spoke “He doesn't know much about the Rooks – and Amity, I've promised Verity to do what I can to give him a choice.”

“You're an idiot, then. You don't have that sort of power.”

Eadgar spoke. “You do.”

Amity glared at him. “Just barely, and for only a month...”

“Power is power to be used as the user will will.” He said it like a prayer.

Amity turned her glare towards Leo. “Leo, go out and find the landlord and see if he has a chess set. A lot of pubs do.”

“I won't want to leave Perfidy.”

“Leo,” said Eadgar. “don't argue with her. Not without a full helm with cheekguards anyway.”

So he did as he was told. He went out into the common room and looked around for the man he had seen earlier. The man saw him looking and came over.

“Can I help you, young Master?”

“Do you have a chess board?”

“Ah yes – over here.”

He lead Leo over to a corner and took down a small chest from a shelf, which he opened. Inside there were dice, playing cards, dominoes – an array of various games. Taverns were not just places for eating and drinking. He pulled out a box from the bottom.

“There's a board and pieces in here, young Master.”

“Thank you.”

Leo took it back into the room, where somebody had moved the table that had held a wash basin into position in the middle of the room. Amity was sitting behind it on a stool.

“Set it up, Leo.”

“I don't know how.”

“I suspect you will find that you do.”

It was some sort of test, Leo realised. He opened the box and looked at the pieces. Then he put the board on the table and laid out each piece where he thought it would go. Amity looked at it.

“Not bad. Wrong colour in the corner, but not bad.” She swept the pieces off the board and on to the ground. “Do it again. Do it right.”

Leo almost argued with her – but he didn't have a helmet. He crawled around and picked up the pieces, then put them back on the board in their correct locations. Amethyst began pointing.

“These are the pawns, the normal people, weak and powerless by themselves, but they have more power than they know. This is the King and this is the Queen. A mixture of power and vulnerable, the king is always vulnerable. This is the bishop – the power of the Church is his to wield, and it's a power that is very black and white indeed – always one or the other. This is the knight, the gentry and nobles who jump over the pawns and all others to guard and protect them, but can also tame them. And this is the Rook, who lurk in the corner, but who can sweep from place to place and go almost anywhere – given time.

“We are the Rooks – we live in the corners, but we are powerful.”

“Leo, I pledge to you here and now, that there is a place for you in the Rooks, if you want it, and you choose it. But I, as a Jewel that I am, pledge to you that you will make the choice. I swear it on my sisters, and I swear it on my brothers, and I swear it to you.”

Then she moved one of the pieces in front of her. “Play, Leo.”

“Doesn't white move first?”

“Not in this game. Play.”

He knew how the pieces moved – he did not know how. And he played with her for about three minutes before she had taken all his pieces, as she swept the board. He looked at her.

“I'm better with dice.”

“Don't worry, Leo. I'm a Mistress of this game, and other things. I didn't expect you to play well. I just wanted you to get into the game. And to make sure that you are still left handed – and a clever little beast as well.”

He looked at her. “Yes, Amethyst, I am. And I am told I have potential. But...” he phrased what he had to say next carefully. “Potential is potential to be used as the user will will.”

Amity smiled, and she looked just like Perfidy did when she smiled. “Well said.” She looked at him for a moment. “Do you want to be a Rook?”

“I don't know. I want the chance to talk to Perfidy about it more.”

“Also well said. And I want the chance to talk to her about it as well. How about if while we wait, I teach you how to play chess properly?”

Leo found it fascinating. It was such a simple game really, when you got down to its core, but at the same time it was incredibly complicated as well. Amethyst taught him to play by slaughtering him at every opportunity. When he got frustrated, she found it amusing. She did not seem to want to be cruel. She also praised his good moves and there were more and more of them as the day went on, but she was making sure he learned the game. By evening, while he wasn't yet able to beat her, he could see how she was beating him.

They were served a thick meat stew – too good to be called scumgullion, and Leo wondered if this was part of the tavern's normal fare, or if it had been specially prepared. Amity and Eadgar debated trying to wake Perfidy to see if she could eat – Amity was in favour, but Eadgar showed that while he deferred to his older sister on some thing, he was ready to oppose her when he believed her to be wrong.

“She needs to keep her strength up, Eadgar!”

“No, Amity, she needs to sleep. Look, she's come through things so far with no real problems. She won't starve to death by midnight and at that point, I can have her up again quite readily. She may be hungry but she will be healthy. And that's what matters, isn't it?”

As the sun went down, they heard whistling from outside. Two long sharp blasts, one short. Eadgar and Amity looked at each other. Eadgar said “That took longer than I would have expected.”

“What's happened?” asked Leo.

“The guard have found the bodies in the alley, I assume. They'll have an interesting night of it.”

Amity spoke. “I had a quick look. I'd say they'll assume they killed themselves – you've made it look enough like that to give them the right to be lazy.”

“Yes...” said Eadgar. “Except one of them is a member of the Clan of Harbingers – and the other... I don't know what he is.”

“Clan? How could you tell?”

“For the moment, let's just assume I paid attention to what I've been taught, Amity – Leo ain't a rook yet, and the more he knows, the more...”

“All right.”

Leo was annoyed. “What is the Clan of Harbringers?”

“Harbingers, nor Harbringers. No harm in telling you that, I suppose,” answered Eadgar, but it was Amity who continued.

“They're Assassins. Serious ones. I don't just mean they kill for money – anybody can do that – they dedicate their lives to doing it. They come from Ereworn, far off north. It's odd for one to be down here. I wonder who the target was.”

Leo looked at Eadgar. “I think I might have been.”

Amity and Eadgar both looked at him puzzled. “Why would a highly trained and expensive assassin be after you?” said Amity. “Sorry, but if I wanted you dead, I could accomplish it in about six seconds – and I'd be a lot cheaper.”

“I don't know why, but the other man in the alley. Like Eadgar said, what is – what was – he?”

Amity looked at Eadgar. “How strange was he?”

Eadgar tapped his fingers together for a moment before answering. “Amity, if I had to guess... I'd guess elf.”

Amity laughed “What, pointy ears, and all in green, prancing through the forests.”

“No, Amity, I mean... true fairy. Look... you don't know as much about this as I do, and I don't know that much. If I was out in the country with woods and streams and forests, I'd have studied this more, but it's not something I expected to need here in the city. There are things out there - they're not like us, but they are enough like us to fool us sometimes, and they like to fool us, from what I know. What I saw out there was something like a man, but something different and something more.”

“It was hideous and horrible and marvellous and beautiful” said Leo.

“Yes - that about sums it up.” said Eadgar. “But why Leo, do you think that means they were after you?”

“That dice you have. I think it came from somebody like that, originally. The man I got it from – to begin with, he seemed normal enough, so normal I don't think I could have described him. But just before... the last time I saw him, I saw some of the same things. He wasn't quite right and he wanted that dice back.”

“Do you know where he is now?”

“The last I saw of him, he'd been chopped into little pieces and spread around the city.”

Eadgar went silent. “That could be very, very...” he paused. “...very bad. Like I say, I don't know much about these matters, but I've heard that they like vengeance. This is going to take some thinking about, and some learning. I'll get to that once I know that Verity is all right.”

He looked at Leo. “This may cause some reassessment. I've made promises to you and Verity and I intend to keep them. But it there are... let's call them elves for now – after you, it may be more important than before that you learn the craft, and the only place I can help you do that is inside the Rooks. Your choice might have just got more limited, but easier.”

Finally midnight came, and Eadgar knelt down next to Perfidy and lifted away the blanket and slid his hands under the bandage made from Leo's – Sidley's – tunic sleeve. He uttered some words, and Perfidy stirred. He repeated them, and then he pulled away the bandages. Perfidy's side was healed.

Eadgar stood up and turned away and gestured to Leo, to do the same as well. He heard Perfidy's voice.

“Amity?”

“Put this back on, girl,” said Amity, then. “You can turn back around boys.”

Amity and Perfidy both looked at each other, and their hands went to each other's cheeks. There was silence for a moment, and then Amity said “You're lucky Eadgar has only just healed you, or I'd give you such a hiding, Verity.”

“It's Perfidy, now, Amity.”

“And it's Amethyst, now, Perfidy.”

Perfidy backed up the bed, and looked straight at Leo, with a look of fear on her face.

“Hush,” said Amity. “Blood is thicker than water. I am so angry with you right now, you would not believe it, but... Gods help me, I love you, and I love him,” she gestured over to where Eadgar and Leo were standing, “...and we're going to work this out. Eadgar has explained a bit to me. Now you're going to explain some more, while those two boys go downstairs and raid the kitchen.” She looked at Eadgar. “Fry something solid up. Don't wake the landlord. Breakfast for all of us, we're out of there once we're done.”

Leo said. “I need to talk to Perfidy first. It's important.”

Amity said, “Leo, I don't think you understand the situation here.”

“I think I do – and there's things I think you need to know as well, but I need to check with Perfidy what I can tell you.”

Amity looked. “Oh, Leo, Leo – if I want you to, believe me, you'll tell me everything.”

“Maybe – but I'd rather do it because Perfidy said it was all right, than the other reason.”

She actually smiled. “That makes some sense. All right. But five minutes, please. I'll go down with Eadgar and start cooking.”

She looked at Perfidy. “You'd better still be here when I get back up.”

Eadgar and Amity walked out the door. Leo sat down on the bed next to Perfidy. Then he began to cry. He threw his arms around her, and cried. He'd done that a lot today and the day before. More than he had in a long time. Perfidy held him for a long moment and then pushed him away.

“Amity is serious about time. What do you have to tell me?”

“The Marshal, the Earl of Mancaster wants to see you. He wants you to tell him about the bribes that were arranged to get me out. He's trying to deal with a crooked Magistrate, and this is the price for my freedom – King's evidence, he called it. But what will the Rooks think of that? I assume they like crooked Magistrates.”

“Not ones that are so careless that the Earl has to deal with them, they don't. The system works only when it's deniable. Look – Leo, it's all right. I'll explain things to Amity – Amethyst. We're lucky she's here. She can make deals for the Rooks. Gatanedes and the saints, knows how that happened.”

“It seems to be recent from what she said to Eadgar.”

“It must have been... look, go down and help my brother make our breakfasts. I need to talk to my sister.”

As he went to the door. “Leo – why haven't you got a tunic on.”

“Eadgar turned it into a bandage for you.”

“Well, I brought your clothes with me – the landlord was looking for them. There's a parcel he put behind the bar – wrapped in hessian. Get a shirt on, please. It's cold.”

Leo went downstairs to the bar and found the neatly packed parcel. Inside besides his clothes, he found Perfidy's dress, and the two daggers – hers and Charity's. He put on his tunic and wrapped things into a loose ball of clothes, daggers, and hessian, and walked into the kitchen.

He spoke to Amity. “Perfidy says she needs to talk. I think she's going to tell you everything.”

“I doubt that – but hopefully she'll tell me everything I need to know, and explain about some things she isn't telling.”

Eadgar had eggs and bacon frying on a large stove. Leo felt suddenly nauseous again – he hoped he would be able to stop associating such a tasty breakfast with being hanged by the next at some point but at the moment... he went looking and found some bread that hadn't gone hard and got some beakers and filled them with water from a cistern. Eadgar told him to go out and put them on one of the tables, and to poke up the fire. It really was a cold night, Leo realised suddenly.

He did as he was told and by the time the fire was up, Eadgar was bringing in platters of food. Perfidy and Amity came down the stairs. They sat down at the table. Amity and Eadgar looked at Perfidy.

“Are you going to make us say Grace?”

“I'd like to.”

They lowered their heads, as Perfidy spoke a few short words in a language Leo did not understand.

Then the other three began eating their eggs and bacons with enthusiasm. Leo looked at the pile of food in front of him. There seemed a lot of it, and he still felt a bit sick. He said “I'm not sure I want this.”

In identical voices – it was uncanny – Amity and Perfidy both said “Eat it.” Eadgar snorted – laughing with a mouth full of egg and bacon, and suddenly Leo felt... he wasn't sure what he left. Happy wasn't the right word. Safe certainly wasn't... relieved... almost... tranquil was the closest word he could find. It wasn't quite right, but it was close enough. For now.


	12. Chapter 12

They went out the front door of the Faithful Hound and headed a short distance to a crossroads. It was raining heavily, which made the streets dark and quiet if not at all comfortable. Perfidy took Leo's hand as they arrived at the crossroads and lead him off in one direction while Amity and Eadgar went the other. They were walking along the Highway – the closest thing there was to a road that ran through Ongus. Despite its name, it was a rather narrow road – building had been allowed to encroach right up to its edge and sometimes beyond it. Most of the building were two or three storeys tall, and their upper floors came rather close to the upper floors of those opposite. This was good in terms of keeping the rain off and in keeping things very dark. As they crossed Cutter's Lane into the wealthier part of the city, things began a bit more open, but it was still a surprise – even though he knew it was coming – when they suddenly stepped into the Grand Plaza, the largest open space in Ongus. Despite the rain, there were still quite a few people in the plaza mostly hanging around three or four huge covered braziers where fires burned strongly enough to stay alight even in this rain. On the eastern side of the Plaza stood the Council and Guild House, the centre of city life in the opinions of those who considered themselves to be the centre of city life. There were guardsmen in front of it. The Council and Guild House was the largest building in Ongus – it might have occupied a little less land than either the Cathedral or Oldfort, but it was taller than Oldfort, and taller than all but the spire of the Cathedral. It seemed to loom in the darkness.

The cobbles were slippery and Leo was glad he had lost his boots somewhere – he must have left them in the Marshal's office, he supposed – and he wondered where they were going. Straight to Oldfort? He supposed they would let him in and wake the Marshal if he needed to be woken, but Leo was not entirely sure that was a good idea, but abruptly, Perfidy lead him down the road from the Plaza towards the river, which was definitely not in the right direction.

“Where are we going, Perfidy?”

She stopped suddenly. She had been holding his hand across the city, but he actually wondered if she had forgotten he was there until he spoke. She released his hand, and bent down so her head was near his.

“I know you trust me, Leo, so I need you to trust me, now. There are some people I need to see. It won't take long, but it might be better if you waited at St Deniol's.” The church was not far away.

“All right,” said Leo.

They came to a six way intersection – and Leo took the turn towards St Deniol's. He looked to see where Perfidy was going. The road she took lead closer to the river – the only thing he knew of in that direction was the River Baths. For a moment, he considered following Perfidy to see where else she might be going – but he was trusting her, and she would be trusting him to go where he needed to go. He didn't always obey her when she told him to go somewhere, but tonight it might be important.

He went into the Churchyard and tried to find some shelter from the heavy rain. He was soaked through and freezing cold. He had certainly not lived a life of comfort, but he had rarely had to sleep on the street, thanks to Perfidy. Other children sometimes did – you saw them sometimes in the early morning curled up in whatever shelter they could find, before they went off to spend the days begging for food – he hadn't had to do that either. Sometimes in the winter, they just continued to lie there, until eventually a guardsman checked on them, and the frozen body was taken away. He had a life because of Perfidy. He was alive because of Perfidy. And now it seemed to him that she had taken risks in keeping him alive – her life would have been much easier without him. He wondered if he should leave, so she could have her life to herself, but where would he go? He didn't have anybody else. Except perhaps the Rooks. Or whatever it was that the Earl of Mancaster could arrange, if he did.

The sky was becoming lighter when Perfidy came into the Churchyard, but the rain was getting heavier. Leo ran to her, and she looked at him. “I'm sorry, Leo. I didn't think. You're soaked through.”

“It's all right.”

“It isn't. It's unforgiveable – but I ask that you do forgive me. I've been selfish – but I think for once I had to be. Let's go home.”

“You need to see the Earl soon.”

“I've seen the Earl.”

“How? I didn't tell you how to see him, or the password, or anything.”

“I went to Oldfort and knocked on the door, and told them my name and that the Earl of Mancaster wanted to see me. I finally got to speak to a Sergeant who was willing to wake the Earl and check, and then I spoke to him. Come on. Back home. Before you die of lung fever.”

When they walked into their small home, the sun was just beginning to rise behind the clouds – you could tell by the light rising. Jobet was lying stretched on Perfidy's sleeping area. She came awake as they came in.”

“Oh, thank Goodness, you're back. You owe me, Perfidy. You owe me an awful lot. I just hope I still have a job to go to, and that Arkamus doesn't decide I've been off with a boy. I told I needed a couple of days off to go to my Uncle Handag's funeral, but when I think about it, I think I did that last year as well. Anyway, they are all alive, and... why are you dressed as a boy?”

“It's a long story.”

“You'll have to tell me, later.”

She left in a hurry. The others were waking up. Perfidy handed around some soft bread rolls, and said “I have some... good news for you all.”

“Oh?” said Nodar, through a mouthful of bread.

“Yes,” said Perfidy in an unusually – unnaturally – happy voice. “All of you are going to go to school.”

“What?” they all said in unison. There were schools in the Docksides area – elderly women sometimes ran a dame school – and some parents did scrape together the pennies to send their children to them. But orphans didn't go and none of them had ever thought of going.

“Yes,” said Perfidy. “A fine gentleman has arranged it for me.” She saw the looks on Jarrow, Roalf, Nodar, and Baltar's face. “Leo helped. In fact he probably did more than I did. From today, you are going to go to school.”

“Which school,” asked Leo. “Not Dame Tolands?” Dame Toland – she insisted on the Dame rather than the mistress – also taught the Haligdae school that Perfidy had tried to make him go to a few times, and he and she did not get on. Partly because she knew he was a thief – and didn't like it – but mostly because she was far, far too handy with a willow rod she carried. Leo accepted that if God or whoever it was put an adult in charge of you, they had the right to give you a hiding, or a whipping, or whatever else took their fancy if they felt you deserved it, but Dame Toland had whipped children simply because they were not fast enough to answer their questions. That was unfair. Her school was the nearest to their home.

“No,” said Perfidy. “Dame Marta's school.”

“Where's that?” asked Leo. It could not have been that close.

“Down southern sides. You'll be able to find it – I need you to take the others down there – it's a big building across the road from St Lucart's Church. Only big building there. You'd better go pretty soon – you don't want to be late. Just go down there and when you get there ask to speak to Dame Marta.”

Roalf spoke, “If we have to go to school, when will we have time for thieving?”

“You won't. You don't need to. I've also got myself apprenticed. And I can come home in the evening, and I'll be earning enough to – well, we won't have a lot of money but we'll have as much as we do now. None of you need to steal anymore.”

Leo looked at Perfidy, “Apprenticed doing what?”

“I'll tell you when I'm ready. Now, all of you – up. Get going. You don't want to be late.”

Nodar shook his head, and folded his arms. “I don't want to go to school. I like things the way they are.”

Perfidy looked down at him. “Well, I don't. And that matters more than what you want.”

“You can't make me go to school.”

Perfidy looked at Leo. Leo nodded to her, and ushered Roalf, Jarrow, and Baltar out the door. None of them were stupid. They went willingly. They stood outside and listened with a sense of interest and relief to the sounds coming from behind the door. Before Nodar came out crying.

And Leo lead them off to school. It was quite a long way – the width of the city, which was better than the length of the city, but not by much. The rain was still falling, and Leo was just getting wetter and wetter – the others were starting off a bit drier, and so it wasn't as bad.

He found St Lucart's Church fairly easily. And there was a large building across the road from it. An old warehouse. He lead the others up the steps. There was writing above the door, which he could not read – the last part though was OOL and the first part was S with two more letters between. If this was the place, it probably said school, then – but why would you have two letters to make one sound. The door was open and he lead the others through it. He found them all in a small room, with another door opposite and a couple of wooden chairs, and a string hanging down from a small bell, with writing next to it. Too much writing to have a clue. He rang the bell. And a few moments later, the door opened and a girl of about fourteen came into the room.

“Yes?”

“We've been sent to see Dame Marta.”

“Mistress Marta. Don't call her Dame. She doesn't like it. I'll see if she is free.”

That seemed odd – Dame was regarded by most people as a step above Mistress.

A tall, thin, old woman – no... well, she was old, but she was certainly not feeble or weak or any of the other things that went with old – in a dark blue dress came through the door. She had almost white hair, done up in a bun and piercing brown eyes. She had a stern face until she looked right at them and seemed to very deliberately smile. It was a pleasant smile, but somehow a bit... frightening too. More frightening that her stern face.

“Which one of you is Leo?”

“I am, Mistress.”

“You will come with me. Colen, take the others to the first class, until we can work out if they are ready for anything better. Keep an eye on that one,” she gestured towards Nodar. “He looks like a runner. Teach him the word truancy and explain to him in detail what happens to those who engage in it.”

Colen lead the others one way down a hallway, Leo was taken into a room just a short distance the other way. It was a nicely furnished room, with cushioned chairs and other fine furniture, and a decent sized fireplace with a fire. The woman – no the lady, he decided – who he assumed to be Mistress Marta pointed him towards one of the cushioned chairs, but as he took a step towards it said 'Stop'. He watched as she moved it to near the fireplace, then moved a heavy looking table in front of it, and then moved another chair to the other side of the table from the first. “Sit down now, next to the fire, and we will see if we can get you dried out a bit, Leo – is Leo your entire name?”

“As far as I know, Mistress,” he said as he sat down.

“I am Mistress Marta. Do you know what the word truancy means?”

“Yes – being away without permission or excuse.”

“Do I need to tell you what will happen if you engage in it?”

“I can guess it won't be pleasant. But I won't. I want to go to school.” He could not believe he had just said that – but he suddenly knew it to be true. He had wanted it since he knew what a school was. It had just never been possible enough to even think of it.

“I am glad to hear that. I will not promise you will always be happy in my school, Leo, or that you will always like it. But if you want to be here, you can be happy much of the time, and like it much of the time as well.”

She placed a number of items on the table, as she said this. Two... he was not entirely sure what you would call them – like little shovels, he had seen bakers use something similar in their work, but these had writing on them. Two books as well, and a bundle of twigs tied together with string near their base. He stared at that – he could guess what it was used for and he considered her statement, that he might not always be happy here, or always like what happened.

She sat down opposite him.

“Can you read, Leo?”

He shook his head, still staring at the bundle of twigs.

“Do you know your letters?”

“Some of them.”

“Can you write your name?”

“I think I could. I can read it. I've never tried to write it.”

“Can you count?”

“Yes.”

“Please count as high as you can for me.”

“One... two... three...” She waited until he counted to one hundred and then “One hundred and one, one hundred and two...”

“Stop. How high can you count?”

“I don't know.”

“Can you count to a thousand?”

“I never have, but I could. And I could keep counting after that. I could count forever, I think...”

“How?”

“Well, it doesn't stop. I can count to one thousand, so I can count to two thousand, I can count to ten thousand. I can count to one hundred thousand. I can count to one thousand thousand.”

“One million,” said Mistress Marta?

“What?”

“One thousand thousand is a million?”

“Well, I didn't know that. So I suppose I could count to nine hundred and ninety nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine. Before. Now I know the next number is a million I could keep going, until the next time the names changed to ones I don't know.”

“You'd be dead first. What would you get if you added one and one together.”

“Two.”

“Six and six together.”

“Twelve.”

“Five and seven.”

“Twelve again.”

“Fourteen and twenty three.”

“Thirty seven.”

“Hmm... three hundred and forty one and seven hundred and eighty six.”

“One thousand.... one hundred and twenty seven.”

“Seventeen thousand, six hundred and forty nine added to forty nine thousand, seven hundred and six.”

“Sixty six thousand... I'm sorry, Mistress, I've lost it.”

“A little more than that, but let's not worry about that... are you sure you can't read?”

“Yes.”

She pushed over one of the pieces of wood with writing on it. “Try and read this.”

He started at it. There were some letters he knew, but only some, and none of them made words he could read. He shook his head, and Mistress Marta picked up the bundle of twigs. He stiffened.

She spoke in a stern calm voice. “Leo, I will not birch you because you cannot read. Nor will I do because you make mistakes. I might if you do not try.”

“I am trying, Mistress. But I only know a few letters and... I'm sorry.”

“Very well.” She put down the birch rod, and picked up the other piece of wood and handed it to Leo.

“The first letter you see here is A. It makes more than one sound but for now, just worry about the Ah sound. The next is B. It makes a Bah sound...”

“Like the start of boys. I can read the word boys.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“And the next one – I think it makes a Cah sound. I saw it on the sign outside that says School.”

Mistress Marta smiled her deliberate smile again. “Leo, by the time you leave this room today, I will have you reading. I promise you. Not well. It's not like I'm a sorcerer, or anything....”

Leo thought. She had picked up the rod with her left hand. She had handed him the pieces of wood with her left hand. When she had moved the furniture, she had favoured her left hand. He raised his own left hand and touched his nose in one of the signs of the street that revealed something understood that could not be said out loud.

“Clever boy.” said Mistress Marta. “But it will still take you a little time to learn to read.”

“May I ask a question, Mistress?”

“Always, but I may not always give you an answer.”

“What are these wooden things called? I've never seen them before.”

“Hornbooks. We use them for teaching.”

“Only for teaching?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He looked at the birch rod. “I didn't think you needed any more weapons.”

She looked stern. “Leo – I also might birch you if you get too cheeky. In fact, I think it's probably the most likely reason for me to do it.”

Did she mean it? He decided she probably did – but he would have to push things a lot further than he had. He was not sure whether exploring those limits was something he needed to do.

When two hours later, and an hour after he thought he was ready, she handed him the first hornbook again, the one that had made so little sense, he looked down at it and read. “T-he capital of Albion is Ongus. The capital of Thuland is Katorheim. The capital of Cornumbria is Criggen Varras. The capital of Cowbrette...”

“Chaubrette.”

“You said CH made a Cah sound.”

“Yes, it does in school. But in Chaubrette, it makes a different sound.”

“Why?”

“I do not know. But it does.”

“How do you know which one to use.”

“Well... what is the country we live in called?” asked Mistress Marta.

“Albion.”

“Have you heard of a country called Thuland?”

“Yes.”

“Have you heard of a country called Cornumbria?”

“Yes.”

“Have you heard of a country called Cowbrette?”

“No.”

“But you have heard of Chaubrette?”

“Yes. Oh, I see, I think.”

“I know you do.”

She stood up and handed him a book. “I want you to take this home with you – it is expensive and I need you to take care of it. If you do not, I will be extremely angry with you and you can guess what that might mean. I want you to try and read it. You won't be able to read it yet, but practice everyday, and it will become easier.”

“In a moment, I am going to move you into my Second Class. It's taught by one of my older boys. Don't tell the others you've just learned to read – they won't like hearing it's only taken a morning. You won't read as well as most of them yet, but you will soon.”

“Are you going to teach me more?”

“Yes, I will. I teach all the classes on occasion – but I also teach some students myself. You will be one of them, I am sure, when you are ready, but I can't do anything until you are ready. You need to be reading well. Now come.”

“Before we go, can I ask another question?”

“You just did, but you may ask another one. You may always ask, but I hope you are not just drying to delay leaving. You are dry and I am busy.”

“What is an elf?”

“Why?”

Leo wasn't ready to tell her. “I just wondered, I heard the word.”

“Well, for now, you can continue to wonder. It will do you good. I'll tell you what – when you can read the book I have just given you – read it properly, I mean – I will give you another that will have something about elves in it. Now, come. There are two more hours of lessons until lunch.”


End file.
